Welcome to Hogwarts 1949
by Ohyeah100
Summary: Harry is accidently transported fifty years back in time through a fluke with the mauraders map. Here he runs into and befriends Tom Riddle, hoping to find his only weakness. No Slash.
1. The Map, the Time, the Year

Ok, so it may seem a little slow, but it won't be I don't think. This is my first time travel story. Reviews welcome.

Disclaimer, Still not as rich as the queen of England. Not even as rich as the Random Duchess of Whatevershire. I do not own Harry Potter or his magical and homicidal friends. Pity that…

000

On the second night of the new term at Hogwarts Harry Potter could be found sitting on his four poster bed, stretched out and yawning deeply. The marauders map that he had inherited through a long line of trouble makers sprawled out in front of him against his pillow.

Harry had finished his homework early, an event he had not expecting at all. Sixth year workloads were supposed to become very challenging and Harry, clever opportunist that he was, was all too happy to have free time in which to savor the quiet of an empty dormitory.

Harry watched the map in front of him, tracing the tiny labeled spots as they wandered through the corridors and classrooms with his finger. It was surprising how many people seemed to roam the halls after hours. Harry watched amused as Snape, who had been pacing up and down the fifth floor corridor stopped to pull Filch out of a broom cupboard. Harry marked this as odd and continued his casual scan of the page wondering if perhaps he still had some crackers left in his trunk. He shifted so that he might reach his the metal latch and dig through it a bit when something caught his eye. With a horrible lurch in his stomach Harry leaned in closer. Snape had rounded the corner only to bump straight into, unless the tiny black writing was deceiving him, Lucius Malfoy. Fighting back a feeling of faint unease that was fast curling in his stomach Harry managed to withdraw his cracker tin. Popping it open a strange thought occurred to him. A though so large he sensed he was barley even discovering it. How many strange occurrences his map had bore witness to over the many years of it's existence? How many setups of happiness and sadness? How many deaths had its blank surface mapped the path of? Possibly its knowledge wound back further even than that. The map traced the history of an ancient building. The magic binding the pigments to the map was probably more powerful and encompassing than Harry could even guess.

Suddenly rather curious, Harry ran his hand across the map's rough faded surface. He wondered what the map remembered or had been told. The marauders had probably unknowingly injected Hogwarts whole history onto this little piece of paper.

Harry pulled out his wand and jabbed the parchment lightly. "Revealious." Harry frowned when nothing happened, remembering Snape's difficulty in his third year making the map reveal its secrets. Perhaps these were stories not meant to be told- and yet.

Inexplicably, Harry found himself quite determinedly staring down at it. Mysteries had always had a way of revealing themselves to him.

Harry pointed his wand at the map biting his lip, crackers forgotten on his bed spread. Of course, there were a few spells he might try using but something in the back of his mind stayed his wand. He didn't want to damage the map his father had made or worse than that he didn't want to come to any harm trying. Harry sat staring hard, irresistibly reminded of sitting in this same spot in his second year trying to coax words from Riddles diary. Inspired Harry touched this sip of his wand to the map. "I solemnly swear- er, that I am looking for a secret."

Little to Harry's surprise, nothing happened. Clearing his throat, fearing somewhat embarrassedly that someone might enter the dormitory and hear him, he had another go. "My name is Harry Potter, and I'm not looking for a person, I'm looking for secrets."

Before he even had time to consider it black writing began to sweep across the page as if by an invisible hand. "Those who seek the truth might look no further than themselves."

Harry looked back at the parchment, a fierce and shocked excitement blossoming. He dropped the cracker in his hand, shaking slightly. For a fast second he wondered if the handwriting belonged to any of the messers. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot or Prongs but something about the vague riddle some nature of the writing warned him against it.

Seek what? Harry thought hard. Seek his own truth? What was it Snape had said to the map when it had insulted him? Reveal your secrets. Was the map telling him to ask it to show him secrets about himself or was it presenting him with moral advice. "Oh!" He poked the map. "Reveal my truth- er my secrets that is."

With a slick lurch, as soon as Harry had said it he knew that it had been a mistake. The map suddenly began to vibrate and blue grid marks bled through the sheet of parchment so that it glowed ominously. The fibers of the map seemed to tremble in protest. Harry was getting to his feet and backing away when the map seemed to implode against itself. An explosion of blue light parallelized him, wrapping itself around him as he steeled himself for whatever horrible fate he had inadvertently caused. With a merciless crack like glass shattering the sixth year dormitory was deserted save a blank sheet of old paper on a bed laying perfectly still.

Harry was falling, out of light, air, sound. He was suffocating. Then, just like that, he was welcomed back to reality rather cruelly as his body met the stone floor. Harry's head cracked against the ground and he whimpered slightly, feeling for his glasses. Breathing in and out he made his eyes open. White lights pulsed in front of both retinas. He blinked his watery eyes and tried to focus. The sunlight filtering down through the high windows told him it was late afternoon. Harry pulled himself into a sitting position and found his balance. The hall he was sitting in came back into focus. Harry looked around slowly, wondering for a moment if he was dreaming. When the sharpness of his consciousness told him he wasn't he had to look for a wall to lean on.

"Ow," Harry mumbled, pulling himself to his feet. He quickly found this decision unwise and he leaned against the nearest stone corner fighting nausea. Once sure he wouldn't crumple and fall back to the ground, Harry did a better job analyzing his surroundings. He was not in his dormitory, there was sudden daylight and as Harry looked closer he realized he could not recognize the part of the lake he could glimpse through the window. It was however, most undoubtedly, Hogwarts. The stone torch brackets around him bore the Hogwarts crest and with a lurch of increasing fear and confusion he realized he was standing in an otherwise unchanged third floor corridor.

The map had never taken him anywhere before. Harry had never even considered that thought that it actually could. His confusion was mounting and Harry stood at a loss for answers. He had to find someone. Anyone. Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall- even Malfoy would have been a welcome distraction. Breathing deeply and checking the sturdiness of his limbs he lurched forward, stumbling slightly and took the corridor at a hasty clip.

He turned a corner by the portrait of a sleeping dog he was patently sure he could remember having seen before and made his way down a flight a flight of stairs. The res of the second floor corridor stretched out in front of him, familiar and silent. Then with a bang that disturbed his momentary peace a classroom door shook open and began to expel students.

Harry watched them pass, eagerly searching for a face he knew feeling somehow guilty and out of place. Several students passed while Harry fought the silent and terrifying realization that he knew none of them. Backing up mutely until he bumped the wall behind him he watched the steam of boys and girls pass. The whole line of students that filed out looked about his age and yet in not a face could he find any traces of familiarity.

Who where these people? Harry watched them frantically. They were coming out of the old transfiguration classroom, which Harry had known to be deserted for his entire education. One of the boys who passed him shot him a strange look which Harry returned. Could he be in a memory? Like Riddle's diary? He reached forward and grabbed the boy's robes, expecting his hand to pass through him.

Harry's fingers met the relatively solid surface of a Slytherin's school robes. The boy looked at him now disgusted and Harry backed away blushing, muttering an apology.

These people were real.

He stood frozen in the hallway as the students made there way around him and for once in his life nobody pointed at his scar. Nobody goggled at him or made a face. Nobody even seemed to acknowledge his existence. He was no one. Nothing. Alone. Harry trembled slightly in the breeze of the passing bodies and cloaks when a voice from inside the classroom made him turn around.

" I expect a full two rolls of parchment this time Stebbins and you know I hate to give detention" Harry's whole body loosened. It was Dumbledore. A wave of relief and purpose flooded his mind

Harry quickly hurried toward the classroom, stepping aside to avoid being crushed by the thick Stebbins as he came to the door. Dumbledore was bent over his desk in a state of deep concentration, his half moon spectacles low on the bridge of his nose, a nose that for some reason seemed less crooked to Harry. Harry stood there awkwardly for a moment, all of a wonder that professor Dumbledore was teaching a class. He dithered there longer than might have normally, finally Harry cleared his throat. "Excuse me professor?"

Dumbledore looked up from the pile of papers and pieces of parchment on his desk. The look on his face was nearly unreadable. Harry thought he saw a trace of surprise. He blinked as though waiting for Harry to continue. "May I help you?" he asked kindly, stacking the papers on his desk, "You'll have to excuse my rudeness, as old wizards age they loose little of their genius, but much of their eyesight."

Harry opened his mouth to speak , eyeing Dumbledore's hair. It was not the gleaming silver he had come to expect, but a s peppered orange. "I er, Prfoessor Dumbledore sir, I-" A horrible thought was occurring to him. "I, don't you recognize me?"

Dumbledore surveyed him for a moment with his shining eyes as though presented with an oddity he had forgotten he was expecting " No, I do not though I am quite certain that I am about to find out."

Suddenly awkward and at a loss for words Harry stammered, "Well I'm Harry Potter and-" Harry stopped feeling suddenly foolish. Dumbledore watched him waiting. "I'm a- you're a, I'm a student and you know me." He rushed on. "Or you will at least." There was a pause in which Harry stared at Dumbledore pleadingly, waiting for, by some mystical knowledge a gleam of recognition. "Professor! Why are you teaching in a classroom?" he asked finally, a slight quiver to his voice.

"A question I ask myself everyday, Mr. Potter. Especially in Autumn when there is a whole outside word to be in"

Harry took a deep breath and put his face in his hands. "What year is it?"

Harry thought he saw Dumbledore half smile before he responded. "1949."

As much as he wanted to believe it wasn't true, he knew in his heart that it was. This was real. He was real. He sunk down onto the top of a desk and pressed his hands against his face.

"If I might ask, What Year were you expecting to be in?" Dumbledore asked calmly, with an air as though wayward students from a different age appeared to him everyday

Harry rubbed his nose and spoke between his fingers, " When I had class yesterday it was 1999."

Dumbledore nodded pleasantly. "Then this is quite wrong."

Harry dropped his hands and stared pleadingly at him. "You have to believe me! How else could I have made my way into the castle, past all security!

Dumbledore watched him earnestly, his blue eyes shining, "I choose to believe you Harry, yes." Harry gasped in relief. "But I would have to remind you that these things rarely happen without cause and effect. Surely you must have some idea how you were brought here."

Harry went on to explain the accident with the map the night before, but in doing so he found it harder to remember the exact specifics. Dumbledore listened patiently and upon the closing of Harry's story began to speak again.

" Well Harry, that is a tale." He had placed the papers on his desk into a manila folder. "It would seem that you will not be welcome back in your present time until you have witnessed what your map intended you for you to see." He looked sternly at Harry. Harry looked back feeling suddenly panicked.

"You mean you can't just fix this?"

Dumbledore smiled softly at him. "Surely Harry, this like so many other mysteries is at times beyond the greatest of men."

Harry choked. "Where will I go?"

Dumbledore leaned forward. "You are a Hogwarts student are you not?"

"Well, yes sir" Harry nodded.

"Then I see no reason to send you away. In fact I judge that your way of returning to the future is most steadfastly fixed to this place."

Harry nodded, clinging to his words like water in a vast sandy place. "Right."

"I will speak to the headmaster about an informal sorting this evening." Dumbledore continued, " You are not now nor will you be the first student who has joined our midst beyond their first year. There should be plenty of room for you in classes." Harry followed intently. "I suppose I shall have to take your word on your OWL results." he added with something of a glimmer in his eye.

" Sir, I received seven and I'm a Gryffindor"

Dumbledore nodded. "That is very helpful Harry, but I fear for the sake of enrolling you certain ceremonies will be asked to be repeated."

Harry nodded feeling foolish. "Right. Ok."

Dumbledore smiled, "I shall speak to professor Dippit this evening. You will report to the headmasters office after dinner." He paused to scribble something on a piece of paper. "You may present this throughout the day should any professor question you as you attend classes." He handed the note to Harry and standing up behind his desk he moved toward Harry. "The headmasters office is-"

Harry cut him off quickly, " Behind the statue of a gargoyle on the seventh floor."

Dumbledore stared at him fixedly. "Quite exactly Harry" Harry could have sworn that he a shadow of a smile light Dumbledore's features. "The password is twinkle toes and if I am not mistaken now might be the best time for us to take out leave as there is a Slytherin and Gryffindor potions class that is about to commence in the dungeons. That would be an excellent place for you to begin your day I daresay."

Harry nodded and stood. The professor who only minutes ago seemed tired and distracted was now alert. "If it is not too much to ask I would like to meet with you tonight after your sorting Harry. A Mystery such as yours rarely presents itself."

Harry nodded and looked back at the door.

" Oh and Mr. Potter. For the sake of both simplicity and safety I would ask that you keep this information to yourself until we have had a chance to speak again. If you are asked, you should I think, say that you have been home schooled. Students very rarely change time, Harry, in fact it goes against Wizarding law, accidentally or not. We may know the truth of the situation but I do not think we would be tainting ourselves by telling this one small lie."

Harry thought about this. "I agree sir."

"I have a strong suspicion that everything you do is unlikely to remain permanent after the magic of the map sorts you back to your rightful time," Dumbledore continued, "as you are likely in a fugue state of memory." Dumbledore paused. "In fact it is likely this is all in your head, still, it would not do for you to be announcing the future and," Dumbledore paused eyes twinkling, "who are we to judge where the lines of the imagination and the real word are drawn."

Harry nodded, feeling, in effect as bemused as he was grateful. "Of course. Wait, do you mean that everything I do will be erased when I…when I go?"

Dumbledore shot him a wry smile. "That is my belief," a pause in which Dumbledore considered the door frame, "Of course," he added, his blue eyes shining, "I could be wrong."

A shiver crept down Harry's spine. "Thank you professor."

Dumbledore held the door for him and Harry walked out clutching his note tightly in his hand.

"Until this evening Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded and stumbled away. The halls were so familiar they almost made him forget his predicament until he reached the main floor. This was confusing. What if he couldn't get back? Maybe the future Dumbledore would be able to help him? What if Ron and Hermione did not know he was gone? As little as he wanted to but feeling as though he had no other choice Harry set off slowly for the dungeons. He passed the moving students as he went, startled once or twice by the familiarity of some of them, no doubt the ancestors of various Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws he was used to seeing.

He reached the dungeon feeling more and more unsure that the best thing might not be to make a run for it and conceal himself behind a painting somewhere until nightfall. He eyed the line of students gathered around the doors each of them wearing a slightly different and yet somehow identical look of boredom.

Harry made his way over, doing his best not to draw attention to himself. Nobody looked twice at him to his surprise and pleasure . It was the most peculiar feeling. Harry wandered over to the wall and leaned against it, watching his new fellow students socialize. Harry hadn't a clue how long he might be here, so he wanted to see as much as he could. What if he missed the secret? The other sixth years mulling around and looking ready for their class to start seemed not unlike the students of his time. Harry yawned deeply was interrupted in his thoughts by the shadow a tall, dark looking teen.

"So," he pointed to Harry's forehead, "What's this? Are we accepting damaged goods this year"

Harry blinked, wishing fervently his first class had not been with the Slytherins. "It's a scar." said Harry flatly.

" It looks like a lighting bolt, I suppose you think that make you extra magical"

Unfortunately the attention of this greasy Slytherin had drawn the attention of a pack of them. A group of Slytherin boys were making there way over to him. Cursing the unwanted attention Harry made a move to slide away, but the group had moved fast he was now blocked.

A boy elbowed past the one who had insulted his face so that he could stand in front of Harry. His pale face surveyed him lazily and there was an air of unlikable familiarity about him. "Who is this?" He asked leeringly of his friends, "I've never seen you before, I'm sure of it," he added looking back at Harry. He stood a few inched taller then Harry, and was rather more elegantly willowy. His blond hair and bloodless features were suddenly all too recognizable. "What's your name?"

"Harry Potter."

The boy sneered laughingly. "New? I didn't know Hogwarts even did 'new'." The boys behind him laughed. "I suppose you must think you're important."

Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow, bored of him already.

"I'm Grodisious Malfoy." Malfoy held out his hand for Harry to shake. Harry shook it as quickly as he could for politeness sake, not wanting to anger anyone just yet. He was absolutely more than happy to release Malfoy's hand.

"Don't shake his hand, Grodisious," the slimy boy behind him who had caught Harrys attention in the first place laughed, "you don't know where its been."

Two of the slower thicker looking boys behind him laughed trollishly.

Malfoy surveyed the darker boy scathingly. "Potter's an old name," he looked back at Harry, "And he's not standing with the Griffendor mud bloods and chumps." Malfoy chuckled, "At least not yet, What are you doing here Harry Potter. Surely you're not here for the damp view."

Harry had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. Draco it seemed, certainly had a lot in common with each of his forefather.

" No, I'm enrolling" Harry stated a little harder than would have been advised.

Malfoy raised his brow, "What house are you in?"

" I haven't been sorted yet"

Malfoy looked quite interested now. " Are you a pure blood?"

" Does it matter?" Harry asked, his dislike for this new acquaintance in the Malfoy family deepening by yet another generation.

" Yes it does Potter, because you see, purebloods actually deserve to be here." His face had taken on the same bloodless predatory look his grandson's would favor.

" I suppose I can safely assume that you're not then." Malfoy eyed Harry with distaste.

" Assume what you'd like." Harry turned as the doors opened and strode into the dungeons.

The class made their way into the dungeon and found their regular seats. That left Harry standing searching for one He spotted an empty seat next to a boy with dark hair in the middle of the classroom. Harry walked over and sat down, feeling naked without his bag or his books.

The boy next to him was engrossed in a textbook and paying very little attention to Harry. Professor Slughorn wrapped his wand on his desk drawing the class's attention to him.

" Today we will be experimenting with the elixir of confinement. Can anyone tell me what this particular potion does?

A blonde girl in the front row raised her hand a fraction of a second after a much younger Slughorn had finished speaking.

"Sir, it is a very complicated potion that when forced can send the drinker into fits of terror. When taken in moderation it can be used to help a wizard to reveal their greatest fear."

Slughorn beamed at the girl with what Harry was sure Slughorn meant to be fatherly pride. "Very good Susan!" Susan smiled, looking smug. Harry rolled his eyes once more involuntarily. Professor Slughorn continued speaking." You are to partner with the table mate to the right of you, the instructions are on the board. You have an hour and half. " He smiled and grabbed a book from his shelf and walked over to his own desk. "Starting now!"

Harry looked around the room where various partners were talking quietly, preparing their potions. Harry looked back at the boy in the seat next to him felt as though his skin was on fire. His face was more than familiar. He was tall, fairly well built, his facial features were quite handsome. His blue eyes were a deep color, his hair was a dark brown, his mouth though unsmiling wasn't harsh but rather a graceful pleasant line. Though Harry had seen him before, this was more vivid. Harry found himself staring for the second time face to face with Tom Riddle.

Tom gave him a startlingly pleasant smirk.

" Potions are generally easier with the book."

Harry surprised himself by, automatically and sparingly returning the smile " Yes, but then I wouldn't have an excuse for flunking would I?"

Tom grinned and pulled out his own barely used copy and slid it down the table as Harry thanking his life saving instincts.

" Here, take mine."

"Don't you need it?"

Tom grinned and there was a private air of a shared joke about his lips. "Take it, I have what you could call a natural talent"

Harry couldn't stop himself, what he said next was less than kind. " I suppose Slughorn likes you then?"

To Harry's great surprise Tom smirk widened, and with it went some of his pleasant exterior." Observant, most people don't guess until at least the end of a class that he picks favorites. What was your name again?"

Harry was taken aback by Toms sudden approval.

" Harry Potter"

Tom gave a small nod. "Tom Riddle"

_Oh I know_. Harry pulled the book closer to him and flipped through the pages until he found the potion that they were currently dealing with. He went over to the store cupboard and got the supplies taking his time in doing so. He had forgotten that Tom Riddle would have been in his year. Thoughts were zooming through his head. He couldn't permanently get rid of Tom, history wouldn't retain it. Then again, Tom didn't seem an immediate evil. Harry could at least observe him. Maybe he would learn something about how to defeat Tom's future self. How much harm could he cause? Harry suddenly realized with a thrill of horror that he could speak to Tom. He could speak to the earliest form of Voldemort without being killed. Maybe Tom Riddle was the cause of Hogwarts best secret? Of his best secret. Harry could be sitting next to the key of defeating the worlds most evil wizard and his only way of going back to his time. Harry walked back over to his table still deep in thought.

Tom had cutting board of flobberworm and cut them in half neatly, the ghost of a grimace passing over his face. He threw the flobberworms into the cauldron in a way that seemed almost careful and caught Harry's overcurious eye.

"So," he asked casually, "are you enrolling?"

"Yeah, It's a lot better than being stuck at home." Harry lied, mashing his beetles evenly even though his hands were shaking.

" You don't like your parents then?" Tom asked a hint of curiosity now woven into his tone.

" I wouldn't know" Harry remarked trying not to sound to hard, " I've never met them."

Harry couldn't help but realize the reason for this was sitting next to him. Strangely enough though Harry found it hard to blame this man as he could his snake faced future self. He had to remember, he realized wearily, then when dealing with him, he was in fact still dealing with Voldemort. Perhaps it was his human face but it was still the same killer.

" Really?" Tom asked and this time Harry could hear real curiosity blossoming in his speech. "You're an orphan?"

" Yeah." Harry scraped the beetle halves into the potion as well.

" Did you grow up in an orphanage?" There was an edge in Tom's voice.

Harry shook his head no. " I was begrudgingly raised by my aunt and uncle. I probably would have been better off in an orphanage."

Tom looked doubtful, the small spark that united them fading." Obviously you have never visited one."

Harry remembered that Tom was raised in an orphanage a moment too late." Maybe not" Harry agreed, " but you have never met my aunt and uncle." Harry laughed somewhat bitterly and he wondered where that came from. " I was raised in the cupboard under the stairs until I was twelve."

Tom looked at him. Harry stared him in the eyes.

"What a fun childhood," Riddle whispered, a flicker of amusement passing through his eyes.

Harry considered this and forced himself to snort, "Fabulously recreational. But then when there are signs that you are a wizard you're always mistrusted" Tom eyes lingered softly on him. Harry dumped the beetle mash into the cauldron trying to appear as uncaring as Riddle. "What do you know about orphanages anyway?" Harry asked already knowing the answer. "Where you raised it one?"

Tom hesitated, his the intensity of his face, Harry fast realized had a kind of magnetic pull. "Yes." He said casually, restraint visible in his face. "But I think you'll find it is a misleading fact."

"Are your parents dead then?" Harry asked carefully trying not to sound either uninterested or too interested.

Riddle let out a velvet chuckle. "You're a bit of insolent questioner Potter." he smiled darkly, "One of them is." Tom had answered without changing his tone. For some reason however Harry could tell that he had just entered dangerous waters.

" I'm sorry." Harry told him, as he reached out to stir the potion clockwise.

"Don't be." Tom added, a glint of something in his eyes that Harry could identify more closely to with Voldemort shining through his otherwise softly painted features.

Harry moved the potion counterclockwise and let it sit and simmer. Moments later Harry bottled it and handed it to Tom who brought it to Slughorn's desk. Slughorn remarked in his booming voice it had, "Fine qualities!" to the class and awarded ten points to Slytherin. The dinner bell rang and Harry stood up and absent-mindedly reached for his bag.

00000

Thanks! As always please review! I love feedback.


	2. The Sorting Hat

Hallo again. Firstly I want to thank all of you who helped me with my pure blood problems. I said I would shout out to all of you smarties so here you are; Never Odd or eveN, LilPKLoser, Alteng, Winona Corinne, Legolas-gurl8.

Disclaimer, Not mine, odds are they never will be. It's really tragic. It bums me out.

000

Harry wandered up to the great hall concealed and mostly unnoticed by the mass of students. By falling behind a group of Slytherin sixth years he was able to avoid speaking and he liked it that way. None of the Griffendors from class had lingered and he felt a tug of anxiety when he considered where he would sit for dinner.

Harry was halfway to the entrance hall when he ran into Dumbledore who was the picture of a mountain among many lesser hills in the stream of students. He stopped Harry by touching his shoulder "You do of course, remember the meeting we have arranged?"

" Yes sir." Harry gave him what he supposed to be a reassuring nod.

"Good. Now listen Harry, In understand that your situation is unusal but you must remember that enrollment nearly a month after term has started will be considered by many to be unusual.

" Thank you for doing this sir." Harry said, fighting down a surge of guilt.

"For you Harry, its nothing." Dumbledore beamed at him. "However I really must request profusely that you be on time and give no reason for Professor Dippit to believe his decision unwise."

Harry shook his head as vigorously as the laws of motion would allow without his head coming off in a frightening impression of Nearly Headless Nick. Harry said his thank you to his professor and left quickly, trying to retain his dignity.

The great hall was loud and full, students were quite cheerful to have reached the end of their classes and their was a general feeling of high spirits. Harry looked around, feeling hesitant. Stubborn reminders of being the last one standing in Dudley's gym class engulfed him. Slowly he made his way over to the Gryffindor table, sinking into a seat Harry solemnly slopped some potatoes and chicken onto his plate. Seldom had he felt so lonely at Hogwarts. Perhaps in his fourth year when he and Ron had been fighting, but at least he had Hermione. Hermione. He wondered if they would be able to notice he had left. Would time simply remain the same for them or would they go on living? Never knowing what had become of him, their friend? Then as though following a rope leading him down into darkness an even worse thought occurred to him. What if, if he never returned, it would be as if he had never been there at all?

Harry glanced up and down the table searching for a familiar face. His eye stopped on a familiar profile and he was seized with a strange desire to laugh. He would have to be blind to miss it. Rubeus Hagrid sat on the end of the table opposite him. He looked to be slightly downtrodden, his face held low. Harry couldn't help but gape. Hagrid towered over his fellow third years, so much so that Harry was sure if he stood he would be a clear six feet tall. Even funnier still, though he looked no older than twelve with his clean bald face there were gargantuan eye brows and the ruddy nose of the grounds keeper Harry would one day come to love. Harry watched him eat slowly and an unexplainably strong surge of pity overtook him.

Harry remembered a piece of information Hagrid had once told him. Hagrid's father had died in his second year. He could remember the words perfectly. "He died, see, in me second year-" Hagrid's second year. But at least his father wouldn't have to live with the shame of his expulsion when Myrtle was murdered. Harry wheeled his head around the great hall searching for the living moaning Myrtle, with the greatest difficulty for he didn't know her house. Harry cursed and returned to his potatoes. His goal, as it was rapidly forming, was now to spot moaning Myrtle. Myrtle, who was murdered by Tom. The chamber of Secrets. Tom was probably looking for it now.

Harry eyes found Toms face at the Slytherin table and from deep within him came a strong almost violent emotion. The chamber of secrets! Right now Harry knew more about it than lord Voldemort or Tom Riddle at least. Harry pictured the hole that opened up in the sink in the girls bathroom. He was just spooning himself more gravy when a vaguely disturbing thought came to him. How had Tom discovered the chamber in a girls bathroom? That was very odd indeed, why hadn't he thought of that before? Tom surely hadn't spent his school days creeping about in a girls bathroom?

To distract himself Harry sent a glance at the staff table and had to suck in his breath, it looked so very different. Missing from the staff, Harry noted immediately was Severus Snape. Of course, Harry reminded himself, That was because Severus Snape hadn't been born yet. Very slowly the realization came to him. Nobody was out to kill him. He was at Hogwarts. He had no friends, this was true, but for the first time in his young life he also had no enemies. The anonymity of that, the peace of it was a very strange feeling indeed and he figured that must be what people meant when they talked about having a clean slate. Harry finished his chicken, feeling though lost, that his situation was somewhat less shadowed. As deserts appeared, he began to wish he could get the sorting over with. He wanted to be official. To start his journey for whatever secret he had stupidly wished himself a part of. He sliced himself some pie and devoured the piece in one large inhalant breath. Could he leave now? He glanced at the staff table where neither Dumbledore or professor Dippit were present. Standing up Harry reached the second time that day for a book bag that didn't exist and feeling increasingly stupid he started off for the headmasters office.

On the way out of the hall, he felt the familiar presence of eyes watching him. Whispers met his ears, buzzing around him busily as he left the room. The corridors were silent in a stark contrast. As he trod the path to the headmasters office, every step he took seemed rife with malicious portent. What if they sorted him into Slytherin, or worse, the hat decided that he didn't exist in this time and sent him packing. Before Harry knew it however he had marched his way absently to the headmasters door and as though on cue his stomach began to growl. Sighing deeply Harry opened his mouth to say the password but was rudely interrupted by a banging noise in the hallway just around the corner. Harry paused teetering on the edge of "Twinkle toes." The loud scuffling noise was followed by a muffled scream. Harry was already turning around when the words that Dumbledore had urgently pressed on him earlier came floating back. "Don't give Professor Dippit any reason to regret his decision."

It wasn't as though he would be late just for having a look.

Harry edged a little closer to the corner and peered around the edge casually, expecting to see a pair of guilty looking fourth years with a dung bomb. Instead, Harry found the corridor deserted. This was more suspicious than he has suspected. He was positive that he had heard a scream. A stifled scream. Had someone been attacked? Harry's time in Hogwarts had always been at it's best very dangerous. The urge to continue down the hallway was alive in him, but something in his head squashed this idea back down. He returned to the statue against his better urges and muttered the password. He took one last weary look down the corridor and turned back to the Gargoyle which had sprung open. Harry stepped onto the familiar stairway and let it carry him up to the headmasters door. He took one last calming breath and knocked.

"Come in Harry" Dumbledore's voice carried well through the solid oak door.

Harry braced himself, ready to put his best foot forward, whichever it might be. The opened softly. Professor Dippit was sitting behind the desk that Harry had always known Dumbledore to watch him from. Dumbledore stood in the middle of the room which was comparatively bare in comparison to what he was used to. Gone were the silver trinkets, there was no sword of Gryffindor on the wall and there was no phoenix looking up at him from a perch near the window. The room was formal but less overwhelming and without such a sense of power and variety. Next to Dumbledore was a tall stool on which the sorting hat was perched. Tattered and crooked as usual.

"Welcome Harry" Dumbledore stood smiling and looking pleasantly at ease. Professor Dippit however had a rather more stiff lip and erect posture.

"Yes, welcome mister Potter." Professor Dippit watched Harry with a critical but benign glance. Harry saw him glance pointedly at Dumbledore, who in turn seemed oblivious to the headmasters distaste.

Dumbledore motioned toward the stool "This is our sorting hat." Harry took a moment to pretend to look at it in interest. "All you must do is place it on your head."

Dumbledore smiled at him and Harry attempted a half a grin, unsure as he was as to how much professor Dippit might now about this sudden enrollment. Harry glanced at Dumbledore and Professor Dippit cleared his throat. "Alright then Harry, take a seat if you please."

Harry hastened to sit and waited until Dumbledore put the hat on his head. The hat no longer covered his eyes, but came to his middle forehead. He almost wished that his eyes had the extra privacy they had been given in his first year. Professor Dippit's looked boldly on him.

"_Well, well, well, Mr. Potter. Isn't this… peculiar." _

"Hello then." he thought.

The sound of a faint chuckling filled his ears. "_Aren't you an unusual case? Sixteen years old and unsorted. It is rare that I get someone so developed. _

"Er, sorry. I'm new."

"_Oh yes, well, Hmm? Indeed. I think not Mr. Potter. That is quite a half truth." _

Harry flushed, surprised. He hadn't had time to think that the hat might know his mind. "Well I haven't been sorted here."

"_It is true that I must sort all those who are presented to me. The first time and the second. You are quite complex you know, and you are very brave, some might say selfless, but I know better…"_

"Oh."

"_You also interrupt which is less becoming. Yes you are quite fit as a Gryffindor, you've a knack for heroics. You posses great will. But Gryffindor is not the only house that prizes determination."_

Harry felt the distinct tug of annoyance. Yes he possessed great will but was the a good thing. His mind jumped back past the summer to the ministry, watching Sirius fall through the veil. His heart skipped a beat.

"_Oh, dear. Quite a sadness. My apologies Mr. Potter for bringing it up. Yes well, you might make very fine young Gryffindor so loyal and eager to defend but then Slytherin was always loyal himself_..._To be torn between Slytherin and Gryffindor, houses of action they both are, is not as rare as you might think. How very Torn I am but then again, I've yet to be wrong."_

"Very impressive."

"_Yes I think so, but be careful in complimenting something that knows your mind as it often proves embarrassing. Perhaps Slytherin after all…" _

The annoyance was sharpening to distaste. He wanted to get off the stool, away from Professor Dippits gaze.

"_Patience Harry, it is a difficult process. Yes, you would be an impressive Slytherin and yet, what a Gryffindor you would make."_

"You think I should be in Gryffindor right?" Harry asked knowingly.

"_Should I? I do love a challenge, unfortunately I so rarely get them. I think I shall have to say…"_

Nervousness was beginning to prickle his insides "You didn't have so much trouble before you know. Back then I told you I thought I should be in-"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry felt his hair being brushed aside as the hat was removed from his head. Bringing the hat back to his desk he watched as Professor Dippit cast Dumbledore a clipped look. "Very well then."

Harry sat motionless with both of his hands clasping the side of the chain. He just been sorted into Slytherin. He remembered when he had first tried on the sorting hat that he had almost been sorted into Slytherin, but he had asked to be put into Gryffindor and the hat had acquiesced. Why hadn't he said something sooner while the hat was dithering?

"Er professor?" Harry asked, regret bubbling up in his throat. "Do you think I could have another go?" he asked anxiously. He had been looking at professor Dumbledore but it was professor Dippit who responded.

"The sorting ritual is final Mr, Potter." Then he caught the look on Harry's horrified face, "I assure you, each house is as good as the others. Slytherin is a perfectly good house. There have been any number important and prominent Slytherins."

As much as he didn't like to think it, he would admit it was true that he had some Slytherin characteristics. After all hadn't Tom left him with some of his own traits at the tender age of one? But to be sorted into Slytherin house seemed the last straw and he could feel himself settling into despair.

The Slytherin's. His first thought was that he wouldn't know anyone but then of course, he wouldn't know a soul no matter where he went. The only people who might recognize him were,incredibly, Tom Riddle and Grodisious Malfoy.

.

"Well, I suppose that's the matter settled then." Dumbledore smiled graciously. "Harry here will go to the Slytherin common room after dinner has ended and join them in their classes tomorrow."

Professor Dippit waved his hand, "Yes, of course." Harry was reminded strongly of Fudge. "And he will be continuing on through NEWTs and graduation then Dumbledore?"

" We shall see I suppose" Dumbledore fixed his gaze again on Harry. "Each man is free to pursue his own destiny."

Professor Dippit looked for a moment as though he would have preferred a clearer answer but as Dumbledore seemed to have nothing further to offer he drummed his fingers on his desk. "Very well then. Perhaps Harry would find it useful to collect his book list tomorrow so that he might receive his mail order supplies as quickly as possible."

Harry nodded feeling that this had been chiefly addressed at him though in a rather round about manner. "Ok, I can do that first thing."

Dumbledore turned to look at him. His bear so much shorter than it was in Harrys time. How had he missed that?

"You have been sorted into Slytherin then Harry." He looked down at him now in that way that seemed to suggest he was reading Harry's thoughts. "The remainder of your days here will be spent largely amongst the members of your house, I do hope you find adequate company" Dumbledore had the strangest expression written into his face, something that looked almost like pity. Perhaps he sympathized with Harry. Harry had after all, told him he had been in Gryffindor.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, me too."

Harry then gave Dumbledore an account of the N.E.W.T classes he was taking, while Professor Dippit watched them, the lines of his face that had at first appeared to him to be stern looked more tired and weather worn up close.

Dumbledore assured him that teachers would be made aware of his presence by the time he started classes. Shortly after there was a knock on the office door. It opened to reveal a short man with a large rather bulbous nose. "Professor Dippit, you're need on the first floor."

Professor Dippit flinched a little as though shaking of the start of a lingering nap and stood to excuse himself. On his way out he clapped Harry on the shoulder and led him to the door.

"Congratulations." he intoned.

Dumbledore followed and as soon as Dippit had relinquished his grip nodded. "Good luck Harry, It is my hope you don't need much of it." With a quick smile on a troubled face he headed off after his colleague leaving Harry at the stone gargoyle.

Harry walked the back to the great hall as slowly as he could will his feet. In a matter of seconds he had changed his life so thoroughly it was nearly unrecognizable. It was bad enough to be lost in the memory of something whose brain he could not control. It was even worse to have been told he had to live through it dressed in Slytherin robes. Even as walked down the stone steps full of dread a thought had occurred to him. As loathsome as it was to be a Slytherin, it was after all, rather convenient. If his only hope of escaping this place was to discover a secret that mattered most to him, wasn't it better to be closer to the heart of it all. His thoughts had strayed to Tom. Without rationalizing or analyzing his knew that if he was going to discover something it would have to do with him. Because it all went back to the same place. It was where the prophecy, his mother and father's sacrifice lived It was Sirius lifeless and all the other members of the order that stood bravely ready to face the night. A new kind of determination came over him as he walked and he knew as he reached the entrance hall that that he had a task he would somehow, have to find a way to complete.

The tables were significantly less full than they had been when he had left. He walked in and trying to look nonchalant, slid into a seat at the Slytherin table. It suddenly occurred to him that he had never sat there before. Had Ron been with him it would have been funny indeed but as it was he couldn't summon up enough humor to be amused. _This is your place at Hogwarts now, _he thought hastily.

He looked around at the remaining Slytherin's. There were numb looking boys at the end of the table and a regal looking seventh year girl with a sheet of honey blonde hair a few seats away.

"So, are you the newest member of the family?"

Harry actually felt himself jump.

Tom Riddle was across from, faint amusement at having made him jump clear all over his cold and perfect face.

" Yeah I was just sorted into Slytherin." The sound of it in his voice was strange. It felt like a lie.

A book was propped against a napkin holder in front of him. Tom sipped from his goblet watching him. "Are you a pureblood?"

Harry wasn't sure what to say. He had a feeling that if he lied it would be turned out eventually. The fewer lies he was expected to remember the better. "Im a half blood."

" Really?" Tom asked. "Well that's fairly rare," He flipped his page, "How thankful you should be that you aren't a muggle born."

"Is that unusual?" Harry asked. "Being a half-blood?"

Tom looked at him. "Its not unheard of."

" Are you a pureblood?" Harry asked trying to read the words of his book upside down.

Tom looked at him for a moment as though studying him before grinning in a way only movie actors or French sophisticates should know how. "You'll find there is very little riff raff in Slytherin. The Muggle borns are sorted elsewhere." they exchanged a glance in which Harry took a stab at looking pleased. "Im a Half blood as well."

Harry already knew this, but he tried to look surprised. " I guess I should have known." Harry laughed trying to sound comfortable. "Some of the most powerful wizards are actually half bloods. We are less slightly less blinded by old ways. It makes us innovative."

Tom looked up at him, his expression truly unreadable. "I suppose you could make an argument for that. Perhaps its best to respect the ancient culture of the wizarding world," Tom caught his eye, "But I suppose its true that everything _old_ can be made _new_ again."

Harry smiled, wondering if he had sensed a threat in Toms words. "What are you reading? I guess you've noticed me staring at it."

Tom shut the book exposing its gilded cover which read _Blood Rights; The Ways of The Lower Beings_. The cover was blackened and stained with what Harry would have bet his whole fortune in Gringotts gold was blood. "An extra credit project." he explained, raising his own eyebrows at the hair raising sight.

Harry seriously doubted it. "This has got to be restricted"

Tom's face that Harry was watching so carefully for clues broke in a charming smile. "You caught me Potter." Tom might be soulless, but he put on an amazing show.

"They let you just walk around with this stuff here?" Harry opened the book and flipped through the pages stopping on an unlabeled picture. "That's literally a picture of a Basilisk!"

Then Harry saw it. The flicker. Tom looked at him intently. "You recognize it?" In an instant his face was as smooth and genial as ever.

Harry shrugged.

Tom has put his goblet down. "What else do you know of it?"

Harry swallowed. "Well, venomous teeth for a start." he looked at his arm where he had once been thoroughly skewered with a large tooth himself. "To look it in the eye of course is the last thing you'll do as the result is instant death. However," he paused putting the book down having picked it up to look more closely at the picture, "the reflection of the Basilisk's stare results paralysis. They can live for hundreds of years. Of course they are massive-" Harry paused and looked at Tom who was a steely mixture of deeply impressed and suspicious masked by what might have been a fake indifference.

Riddles smirk broke the tension. "You certainly know your magical creatures."

Harry paused and then shook his head. " No, I know my myths. Its rumored to be Slytherins monster."

He had done it. He had found the nerve. Tom looked at him in a far more naked way. A flicker of something like interest shadowed his eyes. " But of course you would have heard of the myth, an ancient chamber made by Salazar himself, inside it dwells a beast. But even I have to admit you'd be surprised how very few, even in his own house know the name of the monster."

Harry smiled. "You think it's a myth then?"

Toms eyes narrowed. "You believe in bed time tales Harry?"

" Maybe. Especially when there is evidence. I tend expect the unexpected these days."

"I knew I would like you."

00000

I toyed with the idea of making Tom nicer but let's face it. He just isn't.


	3. The Stag

Hello, Thank you to everybody who reviewed. I love it when you guys review. This is the chapter that contains my slightly crooked guess at the Slytherin common room. I read some other fics and watched the movie, I was unable to find my copy of Chamber of Secrets, etc. Hopefully it serves its purpose!

o0o

Harry followed Tom out of the great hall, Tom walked at graceful clip with Harry trailing slightly behind, aware as he was when then turned into the dungeons. Harry spared himself one moments longing for the warm Gryffindor common room but then they had descended the steps and Harry had to put it from his mind.

Harry had always known their was a wide and vast land of dungeons past what he had ever explored as ventured down only when it was necessary. It was a struggle to follow Tom and attempt to memorized doors and passageways as he went once they had passed the regular potions dungeon. Thankfully Tom was sure of where he was going and as he walked he point out several useful shortcuts to Harry. Finally, after several dark minutes they reached a bare stretch of damp wall upon which hung a portrait of a rather sallow but proud looking Salazar Slytherin.

Harry stared at the picture pointedly. "A bit on the nose, don't you think?"

Tom smirked. "Oh very, it's a bit of a house laugh."

"Was that the point?" Harry asked sarcastically, "Salazar Slytherin is afraid of no one?"

Tom smirked. "Possibly. Personally I think Salazar was busy hiding other things."

"Well he certainty had a lot of dungeons to use." Harry looked back over his shoulder down the long gloomy passageway.

Tom smirked as he looked back at the picture, "Catalyst."

The portrait swung open to reveal a large hole very similar to the one behind the fat lady.

"That's an odd password," Harry commented, stepping over the threshold into the Slytherin common room.

Tom smiled inwardly as though at a private joke. "Slughorn is our head of house. You'll soon learn about his usefulness."

Harry considered this as looked around the room he had just stepped into. If this Slughorn was anything like the one Harry knew he was sure this would prove to be perfectly true. The room was long and dark, lit by the crackling fire in the grate. Various plush, deep-colored armchairs were placed about the room. Silver and green constituted the majority of the tapestry on the walls and the leather of the more prominent armchairs close to the fire but other rich colors could be found speckled amongst these house colors. Dark oak tables and brass lamps stood by of most of the seats. Here and there Slytherin students were sprawled out about the room, the majority of them working on last minute assignments. The ceiling was high and made of a dark wood; the walls were made of stone and a thin ghastly green light seemed to permeate the place, a result of their location, somewhere below the lake. Harry remembered this room still as it was much the same as the last and only other time he had ever been in it.

"This is the common room, and over there," Tom pointed towards the velvet draped doorways the lead off the room, "are the dormitories."

"The boys are to the left, the girls to the right." Tom finished, letting Harry look around watching the look of almost incredulous wonder on Harry's face.

Harry was almost dizzy with questions, and none of them had outright answers. Beyond his more pressing problems however were more solid issues he would have to deal with the next morning. He had no books, he had no robes, but at least he had his wand. Harry silently offered up thanks that he had remained holding onto his wand when the map had taken him from his bed. The overwhelming day he just went through was finally catching up to him. Harry had to stifle a yawn. Tom smiled placidly. "To the left."

Harry said good night, eager for a moment alone to think. He walked up the short stair way and found himself in a long, dark, warm room. There were seven or eight beds all lined with a dark green hanging. Harry stopped, unsure of which bed to take until he noticed the one on the far end had no trunk. He lumbered over and threw himself down. Harry had no pajamas so he pushed himself under the covers in his jeans. He took off his glasses and placed them on his bedside table. He reached up and pulled the hangings shut, ready to at last have a moment to come to terms with his surroundings. He spent a moment letting the silence press in around his ears and a terrible sleepiness took him.

He dropped off to seep within minutes but his sleep was restless. He dreamt of violent green light, and for the first time in years, he found himself revisiting the oldest dreams he could remember.

When Harry awoke it was in a cold sweat. He lay on his bed breathing irregularly. Something was nagging at him- that old nightmare. Hadn't he had that dream when Voldemort was planning, committing unspeakable acts in his first few years? Then he caught sight of the green hangings and slowly his breathing dropped a notch.

Of course that was nonsense. _Because it was impossible. _It was 1949 and Voldemort was a school boy.

Harry felt sick. The hours of sleep however few had been enough for him to forget what terrible trouble he was in and now that he was awake again the return of his fear was almost more powerful then it had been from the start.

It didn't make a difference though, because in the end, he Harry, was sleeping in the same room as a murderer. He was helpless, lost, alone.

With one hand Harry wrenched open his hangings and reached for his glasses. He found them and thrust them on, perhaps more violently then he meant because the next moment he was blinking back tears in his left eye where he had poked himself. He sat up straight and pushed the covers off, trying to ignore the chill. Massaging his temples, he got to his feet.

The clock on the beside table read four o'clock. The room was alive with the sounds of sleepy breathing. The hangings of every bed were drawn shut. It was a very strange sensation, Harry realized, to be sleeping in a Slytherin dorm. He was quite literally surrounded by the future dark wizards who would pioneer the death eaters. In this room, Harry realized, his parents future was already been decided. And so was his.

The second bed from the end of room caught his attention and he thought he recognized the Malfoy family crest on the trunk. Harry never would have guessed he would be spending his sixth year sharing a dorm with a Malfoy.

Harry sighed- he didn't want to pace the dormitories and it was already long past curfew. His first night in school wasn't the best time to get caught out of bed so Harry sat down again feeling fretful. He pressed the soles of his feet firmly against the floor and tried to find a ray of light in his situation.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he began to study the room. The curtains on the bed next to him were parted slightly. Tom had the bed next to him and though there was no moonlight Harry could still make out his sleeping face. When Tom was awake there was a consciousness to everything he did. Every smile was governed appear precisely as he wished it to but to see him asleep was to see him weak. The sight of Tom sleeping softened Harry's resolve. Harry took off his glasses and lay down. He pulled his blankets back up to stifle the cold. As sleep once again threatened to take him, Harry realized that even if he could alter history, Harry could no sooner have killed Tom Riddle than Ron Weasley.

The next morning, Harry was awakened by strange, strangled scream. Sitting bolt upright he fumbled to fling open his hangings. A few beds down, Malfoy stood, looking wan and smug, his pale blonde hair already combed and slicked back. At his feet a dark-haired boy was rolling around with his hands clutching his face. Even from a distance Harry could see that tentacles were sprouting from his neck and hands. Sighing, Harry rolled back over onto his side. This, Harry thought fervently, sleep clouding his mind with hostility- this was why he didn't like Slytherins. The boy continued to yell, and with a nasty wet sound like that of a sucker cup being extracted from a wet window pane Harry felt himself growing angry. A howl of laughter erupted as someone else drew back their own hangings. The boy on the floor was gagging. Frowning Harry rolled over.

"Hey!" Harry punched the blankets down around himself. "Malfoy!"

Malfoy, clearly surprised at being so addressed cast Harry a long clear eyed, bored look.

Harry frowned at him. "Are you _done?" _Lack of sleep had clearly left him irritable.

Malfoy leaned against his bed post, tall and imperious as the boy on the floor attempted to wrench his tentacles, which were stirring madly, away from his books. "Not yet _Potter. _Ill be sure to let you know when I'm finished."

Was it possible to disdain an entire bloodline?

"Well when you've finished being psychotic then-" and scowling Harry fell back against his pillows.

Harry heard rather than saw Malfoy's sneer. "Do you have a problem Potter?"

"Obviously! It's six o'clock. Haven't you got anything better to do?" Harry snapped.

Harry could feel the heat of Malfoy's eyes like daggers on him. After a moment more Harry rolled back over and addressed the tentacled Slytherin who was still moaning "And you! Get someone to fix your face will you!"

The boy on the ground stopped yelling just long enough to give him a mean look.

Harry sighed and got out of bed. If this was an average morning with the Slytherins, he wasn't sure if he could remain sane long enough to discover any secrets.

Malfoy had ceased taunting the boy and was watching Harry stealthily. "So they sorted you then, did they?"

Standing up, Harry was examining a pile of folded robes that had been left out overnight at the end of his bed. A house elf had left him robes in the night. Harry had a sudden imagine of Hermione scoffing run through his mind. Harry felt the fabric of the robes between his thumb and index finger. They were the standard black Hogwarts robes, though perhaps rather more traditional. But it was not the cut of the robes that distracted him, it was Slytherin emblem was where the Gryffindor emblem ought to be. Harry sighed feeling mutinous.

Harry quickly changed into his school robes, and left the nearly deserted dormitory. In the common room were several students were smilling around, looking for papers left out the night before or else sitting sleepily in armchairs before the fire.

Harry walked to the portrait and let himself out. It took a moment for Harry to figure his way out of the dungeons and twice he nearly made a wrong turn, finally trailing behind group of second year Ravenclaws into the great hall. He slunk into a seat and at the Slytherin table and poured himself some coffee.

Harry let his eye roam the hall lingering aimlessly on the Gryffindor table.

"So I must have been wrong about you." Malfoy was sitting next to him looking utterly relaxed. "Slytherin doesn't admit mudbloods."

"I s'pose so," Harry answered, wishing to avoid a fight.

"I have to say I'm surprised," he drawled pouring his own coffee from the same tureen.

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked absently.

"Yeah. You see," and he leaned in a little toward Harry, "I had you pegged for squeamish Hufflepuff. Or perhaps a Gryffindor. It must have something to do with that stupid look on your face."

Harry sighed, "Funny how things work out."

"I suppose," he sneered leaning back in his seat and reminding Harry forcefully of his grandson. "

"What d'you want Malfoy?" Harry asked wearily.

""What do you mean Potter?" Malfoy asked, a mean sneer spreading across his face.

"I didn't think Malfoy's made pleasant conversation, did you want something?"

Grodisius's face tinged pink. "Careful _Potter_, you really don't want me to dislike you."

"I suppose this means war?" Harry asked fighting back an urge to laugh.

Malfoy put his cup down leering. "Just wanted to make sure you were holding up, Potter."

He stood up and stalked off toward the other end pf the table leaving Harry with a feeling of surprise. He was so used to the entire Malfoy family hating him on principle, maybe he aught to try being more pleasant. But the idea didn't agree with him so Harry refilled his coffee.

As he was finishing his second cup of coffee however, Harry began to regret sending Malfoy away. He only had a few minutes left until classes started and Harry had only just realized he didn't know where he was suppose to be going. Harry approached a dark haired girl sitting alone at the end of the table. She looked downtrodden and miserable, picking a bagel in a way that suggested it might have been a scab. Harry tapped her shoulder.

"Er, hello."

The girl turned around, startled. Her eyes grew wide, and she blushed so deeply it continued down her neck.

"H-Hello," she stammered, looking terrified. She had taken a keen interest in her cuffs and was fidgeting with them.

"Hi," Harry attempted to smile and he watched her blush deeper. "I was wondering if you had the schedule?"

"Oh," she looked massively relieved. "yes, of course." She reached into her bag on the floor and pulled out a class schedule. She handed it to Harry and quickly withdrew her hand.

Harry studied the schedule tied to put the day's classes to memory. It looked like Transfiguration first period followed by Defense against the Dark Arts. He had History of Magic that afternoon followed by Charms.

"Thanks," he said handing the schedule back to her, beaming.

"Oh," she looked stunned. "Uh, you can keep it if you want," she looked away nervously, "I know it by now."

Harry grinned. "No thanks. I'll probably just copy one down."

Looking embarrassed, she nodded once. "Right. Ok."

He thanked her again and headed off to Transfiguration. If he was honest he was very interested to have a class with Dumbledore. Harry was halfway there when he that when he had arrived the day before, the Transfiguration classroom had been on the third floor, where he had always known the old unused classroom to be. Doubling back, he arrived ten minutes late. Harry stood outside the door hesitating. He didn't want to disturb the class but then he also didn't want Dumbledore to think he had skipped class. This Dumbledore didn't know him and would be less likely to forgive him. Deep down, Harry privately wanted to see him teach. Taking a deep breathing figuring the soon the better Harry opened the door. Dumbledore looked up from the desk of a Ravenclaw student as Harry entered.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter, glad you could join us," Dumbledore looked over the edge of his half moon glasses at Harry.

"Sorry professor. I uh, went the wrong way."

Dumbledore nodded understanding. "This castle has a way of turning its students around, especially before a class is about to begin." Harry thought he saw the ghost of a smile.

Harry sat down hastily.

"Today we will be working in pairs to transfigure dishes into birds. This tends to be," Dumbledore paused his eyes twinkling, " A rather amusing lesson, so to limit the number of runaway birds you will be working in pairs."

Tom was sitting at the table in front of him next to two giggling Ravenclaw girls who seemed to enjoy sharing their table with him. To his left, Harry's two table mates were already nodding at each other. Harry continued to stare at Tom until he caught his eye. Walking over Harry took the seat next to him.

Tom moved his books out of the way, "Found your way out of the dungeons, I see."

"Took me a minute," Harry admitted truthfully as Dumbledore called attention to the front of the room.

"You will notice the design on the dishes before you, perhaps it will assist you."

Harry looked down and noticed the dishes in front of him for the first time, all printed rather nicely like an evening sky. Dumbledore continued to speak.

"Of course the larger the bird, the more magic you will need to expend. Color choice is also very telling, I myself am rather partial to something tropical."

Harry picked up his wand as the class around them began their attempts to change the dishes,

Tom looked down at the desk lazily. If he hadn't known better he might have expected an eye roll. Tom flicked his wand and the dish began to transform, at first loosing its circular shape, tiny china feet began to sprout from the bottom. His wand remained trained and fluid as he made several smaller regular twists with his wrist. The dish was growing tail feathers, elongating, morphing. Harry had to fight his admiration. It had a beak, and then with a creaking sound as the porcelain changed to a soft downy the large and read plumed tropical parrot before them gave a squawk.

Dumbledore passed their desk and Tom looked at him with a mixture of defiance and indifference.

"Very good, Tom," He said quietly before moving down the row.

Tom exhaled heavily and Harry turned to look at him, silently surprised.

"That was amazing."

Tom smiled coldly "Don't count on Dumbledore to think so. He has never awarded me so much as a point."

Harry was taken back. He knew that Dumbledore had been wary of Tom from the very beginning when no one else had thought twice, but Harry was surprised by the slight.

"Maybe he thinks it's only fair." The girls at the table next to them had produced a large and ornate eagle owl complete with china pattern and tea cup feet. It was a regular mess and they were fighting to keep the bird from clipping them with his still glass made beak. "You being so much better then the rest of the class."

"Oh, I'm sure of it," Tom said, the old even tone creeping back into his voice.

Harry clutched his own wand in his hand, feeling already shown up. He thought of the way Hermione moved her hand when she created her canaries. Truthfully he was incapable of producing a tropical parrot but suddenly inspired he pointed his wand at the dinner plate. "Reducto!" The plate broke into several even shards. Tom raised his eye brow. Quickly Harry transformed each one into a small, plump canary until finally he had six mini chirping birds cavorting merrily on the desk before him.

Tom looked remotely impressed, but said nothing. Dumbledore however awarded him five points to Slytherin. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Tom frown.

When class was adjourned, Harry joined the students filing out of class. Harry found himself still beside Tom as they reached the corridor.

"You don't mind if I follow you to defense against the dark arts?" Harry asked.

Tom set off leisurely with Harry beside him. "Its just a few floors up."

They passed the set of third floor windows and Harry watched their reflections, so similar in looks. "Has Dumbledore always treated you differently?" Harry asked.

Tom's cold reserved face took on a sour note. "I suppose, like all teachers, he has his favorites."

"And you're not one of them? I'm surprised."

"No," Tom smiled. "I suspect he rather fears genius when it isn't his own. Dumbledore is a powerful manipulator." Harry had never heard Dumbledore so described and while he had to admit there was a grain of truth in it he didn't like the way it sounded coming from toms lips. Tom smiled, perhaps mistaking the look on Harry's face for worry. "He'll like you though Harry, I can tell." Tom had successfully redirected the topic back to Harry. He was quite a marvel at conversational tactics. "There is something earnest about your face, he trusts you."

Harry thought about it. "But he suspects you."

Harry saw a fast surprise flicker over Toms face and then it was gone. "Of what, do you imagine?" Tom had stopped walking and Harry was forced to stop and look at him. Tom was sizing him up, judging him. "You're more observant then you look, Potter."

Harry raised his eyebrows, trying to grin even though his pulse was beating very fast against his skin. "Its more like I just know things. Its like a feeling."

Tom smiled softly. "Do you?"

Harry nodded "If I'm observant then you are good at hiding things. You switch conversations before I even have time to catch on."

"Do I?" Tom asked, a look of amusement creeping over his face, a glint in his eye.

Harry tried to laugh, to break the silent spell of intensity their exchange had somehow cast. "I bet you're guilty as sin."

Tom laughed, but it was the high cold laugh of his adulthood. It was a soft and elegant chuckle. "You think so?"

"Yeah."

Tom had continued walking, a kind of silken ease in his stride as though there was nothing in the world to bother him. "You might be a quicker study of people then the headmaster Harry."

"But not the transfiguration teacher."

Toms gaze flicked back to his for a fraction of a second, that same analytical intensity had returned. He looked perhaps on the verge of a question. He paused for a moment "I suppose so."

The both took the stairs slowly.

"So Harry perhaps I am guilty, but wasn't it you last night who described a basilisk to me in intimate detail?"

"What is so very strange about that?" Harry asked, grinning.

"Have you ever heard of a wizard who used a Basilisk to do good, Harry?"

He had a point. "That doesn't mean I am guilty," Harry professed.

Tom nodded his head smiling. "Perhaps."

"It doesn't."

Tom had stopped at a door and with look of amusement, "This might be the first time I have been late to a lesson since my first year," he said with some derision. "I blame you for being so interesting Potter."

When they entered the classroom Professor Dumbledore stood behind the desk speaking in hushed voices with a short blonde-haired witch. They both stopped as they entered. The blonde-haired witch looked up at them.

"My goodness, what's kept you boys?" She looked at them, evidently surprised.

Tom began before Harry could speak.

"I am sorry professor Marvel, Harry got lost on his way to your class. I found him and brought him back here safely," Toms pleasing look had won her instantly.

"Oh, how nice," She smiled back at him "Take your seats."

Tom smiled once more and Harry followed him to the back where two seat remained open next to the cracked window which Harry thought probably accounted for why they had been left empty. A draft rustled his robes as he sat.

Harry watched Dumbledore exit the room looking solemn. Professor Marvel still looking at the board intoned "Page 102," curtly.

She walked down the row before Harry could even raise his hand and placed a copy of _Defensive Spells and counter curses, volume six_ on his desk. Harry thanked her and flipped open the book. He thumbed through the pages until he reached 102.

_The common Patronus. _Harry smiled. _This he knew._

Professor Marvel tapped her wand on the desk and the class was silent. "Who is familiar with the use of the patronus against the dementor?"

A couple of people raised their hands. Harry's mind was on Dumbledore and the solemn look on his face when he had left.

"Today, we will be working to understand the patronus," She looked around Mr. Potter." Harry jumped "Kindly tell me the incantation used to summon the patronus"

Harry blinked, surprised. Wasn't it a bit unfair to call upon him so quickly? Harry cleared his throat "Expecto Patronum."

Professor Marvel nodded, evidently pleased "Correct, I award Slytherin ten point. Can you also tell me how a patronus is summoned?"

"You need to think of something happy."

Professor Marvel looked momentarily impressed, "Have you experienced with this particular spell?"

The eyes of his fellow students bore in upon him "Well, yeah,"

Professor Marvel considered him for a moment. "Professor Dumbledore tells me you were educated abroad, is this correct?" Harry nodded, thinking it wise "Tell me then, Mr. Potter, were students of your age expected to produce a patronus?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, feeling as though he were being set up. Did she expect to embarrass him? Did other wizarding schools expect pre NEWT students to produce patronuses? Perhaps the idea that he had been educated elsewhere bothered her. "Well, I don't know if they expect it, but I can make one."

"Is it corporeal?" she asked in her clipped tone.

"Its solid if that what you mean."

Professor Marvel looked at him skeptically. "Perhaps you like to demonstrate?" She asked. Several Hufflepuffs had turned around to look at him. "Or perhaps you would rather practice with the rest of the class first."

Harry stood up clutching his wand as professor Marvel watched him with her lips pursed.

Harry focused hard on a happy thought, trying to avoid thinking about the rest of the class who were all watching him with various looks of expectation and doubt. Harry Saw Malfoy leaning back in his chair looking bored.

"Expecto Patronum," Out of the end of Harry's wand, his familiar silver Patronus burst. The stag cantered around the classroom, passing close to professor marvel returning to Harry, hoofing the ground.

Professor Marvel nodded, her expression unreadable. "Another twenty points to slytherin mr. Potter."

The rest of the class was spent taking notes and by the end of it Harry felt as though Professor Marvels dislike for him had turned to something of interest. She spent a good deal of time addressing both himself and Tom and by the time the bell had rung Harry felt safe in assuming she liked him despite the massive six page essay she has assigned when they were nearly out of the door.

Harry walked down to lunch amidst the Slytherins, many of whom seemed less likely to insult him now that he had earned their house thirty points. Upon reaching the great hall however Harry veered off of his path and turned back into the corridor, an strange inspiration having struck him.

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And that's chapter three! Thanks so much for the constructive reviews! Anyone remember anything about the teachers of Tom Riddles time? Like ah... who they were, what their names were, a nationality, what they liked to teach? It's a mystery so I've taken some liberties. If you happen to remember send me the info! As always I love to hear from you and very review is cherished.


	4. Provoking Secrets

Hello again. Thank you to all who reviewed! I like you guys I do I do. This is chapter four. Enjoy.

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Harry walked steadily down the corridor, half his mind formulating a plan. He skirted around the head masters office quickly, not wanting to be spotted missing from lunch. He doubted anyone was keeping tabs, but still he considered it wiser not to draw attention. He had had a half a thought in the hallway. It wasn't much to go on but it was something. He came to a halt just a few steps past the office, in precisely the same hallway he had heard that muffled yell the night before. He was stuck here in this time looking for a secret was he? It seemed a fitting place to start.

He paused and rotated on the spot. The night before he had been looking for students. What if it had been easier than that? Harry's imagination strayed to Hagrid and Aragog, the memory he had once seen of Hagrid crouching in a cupboard crooning to his giant spider.

Harry bent down to examine the floor but there was nothing obviously out of the ordinary about the particular stretch of corridor now in the daylight. Harry stood up and scanned the wall, not entirely sure what he was expecting to find.

"Ah, returning to the scene of the crime, I see."

Harry whirled around so fast he made himself dizzy. Professor Dippit, with his short trimmed gray beard and dusty colored robes was smiling idly. Harry couldn't tell if his tone was accusing or jovial.

Harry fought for something acceptable to say that wouldn't give away how startled he had been to see him. He was spared the effort however, as professor Dippit continued, "Harry my boy, the great hall is the other way!" He was smiling broadly.

"Er yeah, thanks."

The awkward silence that followed did no more than tempt Harry to turn on his heel and bolt. Professor Dippit was still smiling. What was wrong with him? Professor Dippit chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "I've been hearing nothing but good reports about you from the teachers."

Harry blinked. "Thanks."

Professor Dippit smiled earnestly, "And it appears you have made friends with our young Tom Riddle. Very smart of you."

So he thought it was a good sign Harry had befriend his favorite student.

"Yeah, he's been really helpful."

"I have just spoken with young Tom, he speaks highly of you Harry."

The thought of the future Voldemort complimenting him was something that he had no experience with so Harry filed it away to be dealt with later.

"Thanks sit, Ill ah, Ill just be getting to lunch then-"

Professor Dippit nodded genially. "Right you are, hurry along then."

All the way back to the great hall Harry's head swam. Had professor Dippit been intentionally sending him away from that corridor or had merely been on his way back to his office. Why would Tom be complimenting him? Harry slid into a seat at the Slytherin table even though instinct still led him down the hall toward the Gryffindor table.

He filled a glass with pumpkin juice distractedly. Across from him Tom was flicking through a book looking absorbed.

"Don't you ever eat?" Harry asked.

"I eat when I'm hungry," Tom said calmly without looking up.

Harry smirked. "Reassuring." There were mountains of sandwiches piled onto a plate before him and he took two, his stomach grumbling. "What's with all the reading?"

Tom smirked. "Just staying literate."

Harry looked at the front of Tom's book. It was old and looked like a journal. The edges were tattered and worn and several words in a foreign language from which the only one he could decipher was Inferi were printed across the cover in fading gold.

Harry shrugged and attended to his sandwiches doubting anything he was perusing could be considered fine literature. "Thank you, by the way," Harry began to ladle himself soup, "for giving professor Dippit such a nice review of me."

Tom looked up. "It seemed like you could use the help."

"I did, I don't think he liked me."

Malfoy had dropped into the seat beside Tom, his gaze level with Harry's eyes. "Harry,"

The use of his first name by a Malfoy was certainly a change.

"Yes?" Harry asked, fighting down that instinct of dislike he nearly always had to push away in the presence of any member of that particular family.

"Slughorn wants you in his office for dinner tomorrow," He looked down at his nails rather vainly then glanced at Tom, who smiled cold bloodedly. "And you too of course Tom."

Tom's smirk was ghosted somewhat predatorily. He followed Malfoy's restless movements silently. Malfoy fidgeted and shifted in his seat, not just away from Tom but from Harry by association.

As Malfoy walked off he seemed to regain some of his regal stride only after he was out of earshot.

"What does Slughorn want with me?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"Slughorn is a bit of a collector. I'm sure he is interested to meet the sixth year who can conjure a patronus."

"That seems to be common around here." Harry was sipping his pumpkin juice now thinking.

Tom smirked, "Everyone has their favorites, Harry," He glanced at Harry and Harry noticed his gaze was much more pleasant than it had been with Malfoy. "I am afraid Slughorn is guiltier than most."

History of Magic turned out to be far more amusing then he had expected. Professor Binns, who still carried on in that same chalky voice and who still dressed himself in that same tweed suit had surprised him for the first time in memory when he had walked rather then floated into his classroom. Of course the class was no less boring than the he was used to. Even in life, professor Binns had a fighting way in which he could drone on about violent deaths and still make them come out sounding like a lullaby. Harry left his class in much the same way he always had, dazed and bleary eyed, he blundered his way to charms class.

Charms he soon learned was taught by a tall thin man named Professor Tweady who seemed completely at odds with professor Flitwick. He gave them all an overview of rainy day charms- a simple charm meant to give inspiration to people who were feeling down. Harry was much relived when the bell rang for dinner. Harry gathered up the books he had collected throughout the day before heading to the great hall for a hasty dinner.

He had stopped walking halfway past the Slytherin table en route for the Gryffindor one and while when the Slytherins were addressed he still didn't turn his head, he was improving. He was rather proud.

After dinner Harry made a beeline for the library where he was more certain he wouldn't be forced to speak with anyone.

He made his way down the halls slowly- he needed to think. The castle was dark with the coming fall and mostly silent. Was he mad or did many of his professors seem to be acting rather strange themselves? Not just strange to him but strange in general. There was something of a sense of unease everywhere. It was frustrating for Harry had no doubt that this time period especially was likely to have any number of dark secrets but which of them would be his key to returning to the present?

The library was comforting, little seemed to have changed in its general appearance. Harry scanned the shelves searching for a copy of his Transfiguration text but several minutes revealed no lead and he was hesitant to seek out the library, whomever they might be. Madame Pince was enough to commit him to a life time of hesitance when it came to librarians. Instead Harry got a table and decided that while he was there he might as well tackle the Defense against the Dark Arts reading on patronuses. Harry had just started the first sentence when a voice interrupted him. A sly small voice.

"And who are you hiding from?" Harry startled and looked around but the library appeared empty. "Ashhamed of that mark on your faccce?"

His scar? Harry looked about but there wasn't even a shadow. "Where are you?"

"Three rows down, six rowsss up."

Harry scanned the shelves around him eagerly. Still seeing nothing, he growled, becoming more annoyed, "I can't see you."

"No…you don't." The voice teased ruthlessly. That was when Harry saw it, a book on the sixth row moving of its own accord. In one leap he was up and had seized it.

"Aha, more clever then you look- unsurprising with that face not even a mother could love."

Harry began to shake the book violently. "You...Can't," the books pages flapped limply, "Choke...Me...I don't..breathe.." Harry had slammed the book shut and it hissed at him. Behind him Harry heard a snort.

Tom was leaning against the book shelf smirking. Harry stopped throttling the book and it hung innocently in his hands.

"How long have you been standing there?" Harry asked, feeling idiotic for the lapse of patience.

"Long enough to know that apparently even your mother doesn't love your face."

Harry thrust the book back on the shelf and returned to his seat.

"Id be doing this school a service if I left that book out in the next rainstorm."

The book on the shelf quivered.

Tom smirked in a sharp toothed sort of way. "I don't doubt that."

He walked past Harry toward the shelf that Harry now recognized as the restricted section. That probably accounted for why his section of the library had been so deserted.

Tom scanned the section as Harry watched and deftly swapped the book in his hand for another.

Harry glanced down at his textbook picture of a silver patronus. "What brings you here?"

Tom smiled softly. "Research."

Harry believed this entirely. "I've been flipping through the Defense against the Dark Arts book."

Tom sat down opposite of him, eyeing him strangely, his expression calm but unreadable.

"Surely you don't need to. After your last lesson with professor Marvel I would have thought you'd have mastered the spells in that book."

Harry flipped though and read the index surprised to find that Tom had a bit of a point.

He truly had. Between The DA and his classes and his multiple experiences actually fighting the Dark Arts he had indeed learned almost every spell in the book. "Well, yeah actually"

Tom scoffed in shared sardonic understanding.

"Though I suppose its not a very challenging book," He paused for a moment and gave Harry a very strange look, almost as though weighing an idea. "I'll give you something better when we get back to the common room."

By better, Harry knew that he probably meant more dangerous and less school sanctioned but he didn't decline. Instead he just nodded. He wanted to ask Tom about the Chamber of Secrets, to ask Tom what it was that consumed his thoughts during the day when he completed his schoolwork with such ease it border lined boredom.

"So did you come here to research anyway?" Harry asked, shutting his book.

"School work really," Tom smiled convincingly, "extra curricular."

"Fun."

Tom sat down looking preoccupied but smiling that way that suggested the forbidden. For a second he seemed about to say something when a tall dark haired boy with a pointed nose, small beady eyes and flyaway eyebrows who looked about fifteen came crashing loudly into their section of the library, he came up short before their table.

"Hello!"

Harry and Tom turned to look at the boy.

"Hello?" Tom answered in return, looking genial but somehow far less interested.

"Hi. I've been sent to find Harry Potter."

Tom smirked. Harry leaned around him, "I'm Harry."

"Professor Dumbledore sent me to you with this," The boy stepped forward with a book.

Harry took it from him surprised. "Oh, yeah, tell him thanks."

The boy nodded and took off again quickly.

Tom gave him an amused look and glanced at the book, one eyebrow raised. If his expression had been unreadable before it was only more confusing now.

"Looks like Dumbledore has found himself a favorite."

Harry clucked his tongue. "I'm not his favorite, he barely even knows me."

"Yes but he gets other students to wait on you during dinner." Harry gave him a look and opened the book. It was brand new and still glossy.

Tom looked from him to the book. "Brand new too, how entirely expected,"

More to change the subject then satisfy a curiosity Harry pointed after the boy who had just left. "Who was he?"

"Terrence Flint," he answered, disinterested.

Several moments of flipping through his new textbook later they were informed by the library, a tall and freakishly strong looking woman with a thin grey wig, that it was closing time.

Harry was thankful he had Tom to lead the way through the darkening dungeons.

Once through the portrait hole however Tom made his way over to a nervous looking seventh year who had beckoned to him immediately upon entering the room. Harry walked to the dormitories.

He didn't bother changing into the pajamas that the house elves had left him. He fell asleep easily on top of the blankets and covers. A few hours later he awoke again, and after a few moments of lying their listening to the snores of the strangers in his common room, he decided to get up.

Cursing silently at the new sleep disorder his stress seemed to be giving him, he got up and plodded toward the common room, feeling each step of the stairs as he went down to keep from falling. The couches and assorted chairs were all deserted and Harry went closer to the blazing embers left from the fire earlier in the day. He sunk into a dark green armchair and gazed, transfixed, hypnotized into the fiery coals. Here where he could feel the heat against his skin he was tempted to doze off again. A noise behind him alerted him to the presence of another Slytherin.

Harry looked over the back of his armchair, his eyes half shut with tiredness. Tom had just entered the room, and let the portrait hole fall shut a bit harder behind him than he had intended. He winced and then he caught sight of Harry. When his gaze met Harry's, Harry thought he could see a tinge remorse for having startled him. Harry had yet to see this; he supposed it was the surprise of his sudden presence. He hadn't had time to prepare for this.

"Hello," Harry mumbled sleepily, turning back towards the fire. He was almost amazed at how little the thought of Tom being out prowling at night disturbed him. He missed the normalcy of being in Gryffindor.

Tom had regained his old composition.

"What are you doing up so late Harry?"

"I woke up." Harry returned simply. "Where have you been?"

"Prefects rounds."

Harry smiled, perhaps more confidently than he might have If he had been more alert. "At four in the morning?"

Tom raised a surprised eyebrow, amused by the challenge. "Where else

do you propose I was?"

"I'm thinking somewhere the staff would be amazed to know existed."

Tom smirked, sinking into the seat next to him. "Wouldn't that be interesting."

Harry leaned his head back against his armchair. "A secret passage way, the room of requirement? We talked about the chamber of secrets when I first met you for all I know you were there."

Tom wasn't smiling now, in fact there was something craven and bitter about his speech. "If I did know where it was I'm sure that would have made for a more interesting evening."

"You really don't know?" Harry asked.

"Of course not. Great wizards have been searching for it for centuries. What makes you think I would know so much about it?" There was a definite not of steely curiosity about his tone.

Harry was careful to keeps his eyes on the fire and far from Toms face. "It was created by Slytherin himself wasn't it. I'd think you of all people would go looking for it. You're certainly clever."

Tom was silent for a moment. "Why so curious about the chamber Harry, what do you know of it?"

"More than you of course," Harry teased, hoping to defuse the tension the conversation was beginning to build. Of course he, Harry, did know where the chamber was. Exactly where it was and how to get into it. The question was, had Tom yet discovered it. Tom gave him a disbelieving look, the glint in his eyes shining maliciously. It usually did when it came to the subject of the Chamber of Secrets. "Enlighten me Harry."

Harry restrained himself. If he ever wanted to go home he had to witness a secret. The more he helped tom along, perhaps the faster he might come to it. He had his limits however. He wasn't like Tom. He was good, and kind. Then again, if this world he was in was little more than a memory and nothing he did would be retained by history he was in a powerful position to manipulate.

Harry laughed off the comment and then thinking the better of it paused wondering how exactly he was to do this.

"Snakes," Harry started.

Tom calm eyes were suddenly fixed on Harry. He could see it out of the corner of his eye.

"What of them?"

"Slytherin could speak to them." Tom had a kind of half thought transforming on his face.

"Some wizards can too, and Id imagine they would have been sorted into Slytherin's

house. Can you speak to snakes?"

Tom was watching him now as he had never done. "If I could?" he asked and it was clear he was inferring that the answer was yes. It was perhaps the first piece of something Tom had revealed to him, however cloaked that was personal. There was almost a loyalty in it and the result was powerful.

Harry smiled. "It isn't a very common skill, is it?" Tom was still watching him. "It's one we share."

There was surprise and incomprehension in Toms eyes. He looked at Harry for a minute more before hissing, "Prove it."

Harry and Tom faced each other now and when Harry opened his mouth, doing his best to imagine that Tom was a large snake, which was easier to accomplish than Harry would have guessed it came out in a hiss. To anyone else it might have been a strange and disconcerting noise but to Tom it was a sentence.

His expression was un fathomable. "We have much, much more in common than it would seem Harry Potter."

Harry nodded, still horribly aware of himself, of giving too much away. "I was thinking, if you want to find something forgotten and hidden to wizards, why not ask the only race Salazar might have confided in."

Tom leaned forward and placed a book on the table next to him, the book he had promised to give him earlier in the library. Their eyes met for one brief moment. "We aren't done discussing this. You and I have business together Potter."

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Thank you to everybody who has reviewed, it really makes me happy and spurs updates! Don't worry about Harry's moral compass. He may flit in some gray areas throughout this story but I promise not to make him into the next Suromon! Next chapter I may add the first chamber scare! Thanks so much for reading and as always send me any questions and comments! Q's and C's are my favorites!


	5. Harry Speaks to Snakes

The teachers of this time period are so elusive! So I have begun to create! CREATE I SAY! Enjoy the chapter! As always send me ideas and questions!

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Harry inspected the book that Tom had deposited in front of him with great interest. The book was untitled, dark and in all ways inconspicuous. Harry flipped it open without much of a second thought. In his own time Harry probably would have wanted it subjected to multiple dark art curse inspections, but even as he opened it harry knew this would have been pointless. Harry did not need a dark detection to test to know that the book was clearly evil. A week ago in the comfort of his warm Gryffindor four poster he might have slammed the book shut with a thud- that was if he had even opened it. But these were dark days and he needed Tom's trust almost as much as he wanted to know what Tom was studying. A separate part, a long extinguished part of him was humming with curiosity.

The first page was blank; the second was printed with a barely readable scrawl splashed across it in green ink. Harry squinted.

_T. Riddle 1948_.

Harry thought for a moment back to the diary he had driven a basilisk tooth through in his second year. The diary he was probably writing even now as Harry sat reading. Harry snapped the book shut dully, looking at its deep purple cover. Cursing silently under his breath Harry reopened the book and flipped to the next page of words. The lettering was strangely colored and finely written. The elegant nature of the letters made him reach out and stroke them. He pulled his hand back and began to read.

_Degradentium- the spell of deception_

Harry bent a bit closer to read the small, fine writing that made up the description.

_Cast at midnight with the heart of a bezoar in your left hand at a full moon. If the traitor is truly not your ally, his skin will burn blue in your sight._

Harry raised an eye and thought of how many ways this spell was nefarious. At the same time though, it couldn't really hurt anybody. It would expose a liar but then so would his sneakoscope. _The heart of a bezoar. _Was a bezoar just a stone? How could it have a heart? Harry shivered hoping this sentence didn't carry a second meaning.

_Flaminius ignominious- a spell of combustion _

_Human or otherwise. Sharp wand flick followed by concentration on engulfment._

Harry privately hoped that this spell had been used on evidence rather than people. The further back he flipped through the book the darker the spells became, as though they were hiding themselves as far from prying eyes as possible. For a quarter of an hour Harry stuck mainly to the front of the book that in all truthfulness did contain any number of useful spells. He didn't dare go past the middle and around two o'clock he gave it a rest and went to bed.

Harry awoke the next morning to the sound of birds chirping, and Grodsius Malfoy's ecstatic laughter. Dimly Harry realized that somebody else was yelling. Harry rolled out of bed and began to change into his robes. A short red headed boy was shaking a school bag at Malfoy's chest.

"It's my only bag you git! How am I supposed to fix this?"

Grodiusius was nearly doubled over in apparent merriment and even Harry had to admit the red head was so short and so ludicrously angry as he hopped about that it really was almost funny to watch.

The red head reminded Harry of a leprechaun and for a moment Harry almost wondered if the same thing might have occurred to Malfoy as shortly after he gave up his effort to straighten his face and resolved back into mean spirited laughter.

Harry was halfway to the door when he noticed the was a bag on the end of his bed as well. Smiling Harry went over and picked it up. Thankfully Malfoy had not gotten to it, for it was great condition. Harry walked over to his bedside table and stuffed the stack of textbooks into it, he added Tom's handwritten one last.

Dodging Malfoy and the red head Harry made his way to breakfast where he picked at a muffin nervously before heading off to care of magical creatures. Walking down the sloping lawn in the morning light Harry found was oddly familiar as the class was amazingly still conducted with the Gryffindors on the edge of the albeit cabin-less woods.

The were greeted at the edge of the forest by professor Kettleburn, an energetic man with various scars and eight fingers total. He gave Harry a bit of a shock when he looked up from observing them to see his oddly familiar and wildly misshapen smile. Harry recognized him as the professor Hagrid had inherited the job from, seen only occasionally at dinner or in the hallways in his first and second year.

Once he was fairly sure they were all assembled he didn't bother a head count but jumped right in.

"Today class, we will be experimenting!"

The class exchanged glances of unease.

He smiled. "I have managed to procure, incredibly, a pack of hippogriffs!"

Harry let out a sigh of extreme thankfulness. Never had he been so happy for Hagrid's passion for disturbing and often violent creatures. The class around him looked less enthusiastic.

"_Sorry?_" Malfoy was standing a few people over to his right.

Professor Kettleburn looked in his direction with something like dislike. "Hippogriffs boy, half bird half horse"

Grodsius shot Professor Kettleburn a look of disgust or was it horror and Harry was reminded of that fated care of Magical creatures class in his third year where a very different Malfoy had provoked a hippogriff.

The class had now noticed the group of hippogriffs chained to a large tree wandering in circles, tossing their heads back and looking politely fierce in the fall breeze.

Malfoy scoffed, "And what exactly are we supposed to do with them?"

"Id like you to start by bowing to them, and perhaps y the end of the lesson to feed them."

Malfoy laughed nastily, sounding rather braver then Draco had, but Harry noticed his eyes fixed on the hippogriffs lethally sharp talons and Harry distinctly heard him mutter, "I wont be getting any closer than twenty yards to that beast."

Professor Kettleburn straightened up, looking annoyed. Evidently he had heard him because he said, "Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you would like to go first."

Malfoy scowled darkly but didn't seem to dare defying a direct instruction. He seized the hippogriff meal that a Gryffindor had taken from the bucket at Kettleburns feet from his hand and Harry found himself scowling with the rest of the Gryffindors. The brown haired Gryffindor' s eyes following him nastily as he stalked away.

"The first step is to bow."

Malfoy bowed when Professor Kettleburn told him to. It bowed in return and Malfoy cast a smug look at the rest of the class. He reached forward and let the hippogriff eat out of his hand. Harry wouldn't have eaten out of his hand, half bird or human.

The class progressed slowly as they all took turns feeding the hippogriffs. The Gryffindors weary of the Slytherin's foul attitudes and the Slytherins less then gracious to have to share the same field. Some things never seemed to change. Only they did Harry thought dimly, his position had changed.

They were all doing well and the class was slipping away when Harry noticed that Malfoy and one of his darker colored friends seemed to have slipped in behind the group of Gryffindor. The same dark haired Gryffindor Malfoy had stolen the hippogriff food from straightened up as Malfoy whispered something foul into his hair. The boy who had been diligently scraped his food clean of dirt jerked around and the next thing Harry knew his handful of dirt and wet hippogriff food was splattered across Malfoy face.

Malfoy staggered back very pink in the face with his wand drawn but what ever Malfoy had said must have been very bad because he wasn't fast enough. The Gryffindor had flung himself at him and all was rough hitting pandemonium. Harry felt his muscles tense, a strange urge to join the fray had come over him but Professor Kettleburn was already running back from the paddock, breaking it up, prying the Gryffindor boy away. A silence had fell and even those near the hippogriffs had turned to watch.

Professor Kettleburn rounded on Harry and the small group of Gryffindors who had been nearest the fight. The two Griffindors next to him immediately lurched into a story of how Malfoy had instigated him-

"-Malfoy did it!" and "-he was talking about Joshua's girlfriend professor!"

Harry stood stoically, loath to support Malfoy but knowing it would do him more harm than good to defend Joshua the Gryffindor. Certainly it had been Joshua who had made the fight physical but had Harry been in his position he was sure he would have acted the same. Harry tried to arrange his features into a look of polite disinterest but Kettleburn had rounded on him next.

"You, what's your name?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Harry Potter sir."

"Did you see what happened?" He watched Kettleburn's eyes flick over the Slytherin embalm on his robes.

Harry chanced a glance at Malfoy and Malfoy and Joshua. Malfoy's eye look sore but his face defiant, even calm and Joshua was shaking with anger, glaring at him. Harry realized with a sinking feeling that he only had one choice if he wished to remain safe. One thing had learned was that the Slytherins only got away with being so mean to anyone because, they backed each other up. They were a tightly knit and powerful group, despite the fact that they all might stab each other in the back to save their own skin.

Disgusted with himself and avoiding the gaze of the Gryffindors around him Harry answered, "Joshua threw the first punch sir, Malfoy was only talking to him about the hippogriff food."

Malfoy was eyeing him smugly, the red and gold colored crowd around him were glaring daggers.

Professor Kettleburn nodded looking disappointed. Harry turned away feeling traitorous, disturbed by Malfoy who was regarding him now with a look of near camaraderie. Harry ignored his unwanted companionship by speeding up on the way back up to the castle and made his way to the greenhouses silently.

There was a part of him that was still fully expecting to see professor sprout ready and waiting, her flyaway hair springing off in odd directions, her smile waving out across the dangerous plant that they would be working with that day.

The professor was a man and a gruff stringy one too. He stood at about six foot five and he wore a lopsided soft hat that covered his graying hair. His pants were fading and a few inches too short. He had no beard, but his side whiskers were longer than his chin. He looked calm and confident, his hazel eyes gleaming with a that comforting Hufflepuff air.

He looked at the over his trowel with great interest. He almost looked very happy to have company, and happy to be outside. His air of content was infectious and it calmed Harry's nerves.

He set them about the task of collecting spitting seeds which turned out to be arduous hard work. By the middle of the lesson Harry was sweating so much and so covered in dirt he nearly missed the professor's approach.

He arrived smiling behind his just as Harry had packed the earth back down over the spitting seed with his trowel. "You must be Harry"

Harry tried for a half smile and stuck out his hand for him to shake. He took it and shook it fondly. "I'm Professor Tweedy"

"Nice to meet you" Professor Tweedy smiled benignly. "Are you interested in herbology?"

"Er, oh very" Harry lied.

"Hoe excellent!" he beamed, "Have you any idea what a spitting seed spits?"

Harry took a guess, "Fire sir"

"Do you know, it is!" he remarked happily. "Five points to Slytherin."

Harry nearly laughed, feeling ridiculous, like everybody could see right through him. What would he give to have Ron or Hermione with him? To have a confidant. But this adventure it seemed was for him alone. The Slytherins seemed pleased, the Hufflepuffs determinedly continuing work on their plants.

Professor Tweedy walked up to the front of the room and began to talk.

With only a quarter of an hour left to go Professor tweedy informed them they would be collecting the buds that had begun to sprout up where they had planted the seeds. The first he had planted, sensing it's demise reared back and spat a match sized flame. Harry gripped his clippers, vaguely intimidated.

" So, very interested in herbology are we?" Tom's silken voice cut through his momentary worry.

Harry cut the bud from one of the smaller plants and it fell to the group the color of ash. "Hey, that was some luck if I ever saw it."

"It was impressive, I'll give you that"

"Do you think he knew I was clueless? " Harry asked as he became to collect the grey blooms.

"I doubt it."

What gave it away?"

" I'm rather observant" he chose his words coolly. Harry wasn't at all surprised. It seemed very little got by Tom. " Blind luck seems to follow you Harry."

Harry grinned as the spiting seed began to lift it's head. Before Tom could even reach forward, Harry instinctively pulled out the bud, his expert reflexes telling him to duck as the seed spit a golf ball sized flame at him.

Harry looked up as the ball nearly singed his shoulder. He stood back up watching Tom who was watching him in careful regard, perhaps thankful that Harry had saved them both from third degree burns.

"Perhaps professor Tweedy is right, you would make a excellent farmer."

Harry laughed. "I have other plans."

He stepped aside as another ball of flame whizzed by. "Wasn't that plant only supposed to spit fire when before we remove the bud?"

Tom looked at the plant disinterested. "I suppose not"

Harry took turns removing and dodging flame spits. It turned out Harry was rather good at this, years of quid ditch practice seemed to govern him as he went. Tom was casting him a very curious look.

"What?" It was amazing how often he felt inferior to the teenage Voldemort.

Tom raised his eyebrows as Harry plucked the last seed, saving them both by deflecting the fire with his trowel. Tom had collected the flowers with much more care then Harry had but it was only now that Harry realized he had plucked nearly all of them and that it was his robes that bore singe marks and not Tom's.

They traipsed to lunch, nursing small burns and several smaller scratches. He flipped open his new transfiguration book as soon as he was seated. He sighed as he looked over the more complicated spells in the back, knowing he would have to master them for his NEWTS. He ate a piece of chicken thinking that between the work load and the added pressures of disguising himself he was about as likely to discover secrets as he was to become a death eater.

Harry sat through Transfiguration, comforted by Dumbledore, working in a pair with a girl whose last name was Hummel producing snuff boxes from rodents.

Well then bell rang Harry made his way to his last class of the day potions, taking his time as he did so. He never enjoyed potions, and he thoroughly hated his old potions master. Thankfully, Snape had not yet been born and Harry was somehow cheered by this.

Harry occupied the seat he had occupied last time and leaned on his hands. Professor Slughorn was smiling from behind his desk and Harry couldn't help but notice this beatific look was more often then not directed at Tom. On Slughorns desk was a cauldron and something with a cloth over the top of it. He looked up and grinned at Harry as well.

"Hello class, today we will be brewing the drought of Penelope" he scanned the room and stopped on the Ravenclaw that had reminded him of Hermione the first day.

"The drought of Penelope will..." Harry was beginning to loose focus. From what he gathered in and out there was a special treat under the cloth, and most of the class seemed to find it enticing. Harry was bored out of his mind. Harry just wanted to go to bed. Sleepiness was slipping over him and more and more his soft book was beginning to look like a pillow.

He glanced at Tom who was looking bored as well but properly attentive. He was busy scribbling in his book. His handwriting was too fine to be read form a distance of a few feet.

Harry sighed as quietly as he could and plucked up the transfiguration book again. He read the first passage on turning furniture into living animals then he flipped to the section that addressed turning water into flame. It was half way through the book and Harry studied the illustration fascinated. He practiced the spell under his breath. He thought about the bright blue flame.

"Araahh" Professor Slughorns glass of water had exploded into brilliant blue flames. The class were all focusing on the class of water, some were looking around the room. Harry sunk a little lower in his chair trying his best not to laugh an honestly shocked look spreading over his face. He looked around him quickly and was jolted at Toms unwavering gaze. He had a small smirk playing on his lips, his quill still at hand.

Professor Slughorn had put it out with a quick spell and was looking around the room irritated.

"Now that's not funny" he glared around the class. "One more interruption like that and I'll have you all doing extra homework."

The class all tried to look innocent, not wanting a double load on their there first week back.

Harry sunk lower in his chair burying his head in his hands to keep from laughing. He really hadn't meant to. He supposed maybe he could get a hold on this after all.

Tom tsked. "The first week of class, are you really that bored already?"

Harry shook his head trying not to look so surprised, "No! That was an accident."

Tom gave him a strange look. "Did you say the incantation?"

Harry shook his head, the realization only just hitting. "No?" Had he just pulled off his first non verbal spell?

Tom raised his eyebrows. "Well done, I suppose."

Harry took this as an odd complement. They brewed the drought of Penelope for the next hour. Harry was relived when Slughorn dismissed them early. With a half an hour to kill before a dinner he had been commanded the day before to have in Slughorn's office he wandered to the library, his safe haven from having to speak to any of his new Slytherin house mates.

He was contentedly reading, minding the clock when a voice distracted him. Not the voise of a book as it had been the day before but something smaller, and more familiar.

"Sssearch for him I must, do not killll." Harry's blood felt stilled. "I willll not kill forr I do as he saysss, but how I long for blood."

Harry looked about the library horrified, the book his was reading slipped from his fingers. He looked high and low, gripping for the book again as though he was preparing to use it as a weapon.

"Too kill isss my nature, how it painsss me to fight it. Ahh a Slytherin in the library, but it isn't him, a pittyy for he cannot hearr meee."

Harry was stiff as a board. It could see him, whatever it was but he Harry could only hear him. Then he saw it, brown and thick as a hose, perfectly blended into the window frame. It all came together painfully.

Gazing at the snake, startled as though by an enemy Harry spoke to him, only just catching the faint sound of a hiss as he did so. "That's a bit presumptuous don't you think"

The snake that had curled up in the window now paused and turned it's small head, unkindly to look at him.

"Strange boy can hear me!" He narrowed his snake eyes hypnotically "but you are Massster Riddle after alll."

Harry frowned. "No I'm Harry Potter, Tom is taller than me and his hair is neater."

The snake seemed to consider this, its head bobbing.

"So who are you planning on killing?" Harry asked accusingly.

"Nobody master Potter"

Harry sighed and was a little taken aback at being addressed as master. No snake he had ever spoken to had ever seemed so formal.

"Who are you?"

" Cronk, who was raisssed beyond the ridge" The snake jabbed his tail at the window where it collided with a nasty smack, pointing out across the grounds toward the lake.

" Well, what are you doing here then?" Harry had never known a snake to roam the castle, unless you counted the basilisk in his second year and that seemed to be a rather different sort of matter.

Cronk eyed him, his forked tongue darting in and out of his mouth. "Why do you ask Harrrry Pottterr"

" I was just wondering what you were looking for, maybe I can help" he said this as calmly as he could to disguise the mistrust in his voice.

The snake looked him over and sighed, talking mostly to himself he said.

"Well he doess understand me, a parrt of the plannn or nottt? I doo as hee sayss. Hee said not to speak off it. The worst pain he promissess with his eyess for I now serve a great causee."

He looked at Harry who nodded his head in understanding and said hurriedly, "I'm sure that you are very loyal"

The snake seemed to think so as well because he remained staring insolently at Harry.

Harry swallowed and pressed again, feeling as though this might be the chance he had been waiting for. "Than let me help you serve your cause"

The snake hesitated, and then, " What knowledge do you have off the chamberr of secretts?"

Harry was slightly taken aback, but not really thrown by this question. Tom had employed the snakes to help him search for the chamber.

" Not much," Harry lied.

"Rumorsss and mythhsss, that is what has beeen lefft to usss. Only the few remain who mayyy underssstand."

Harry noticed the time on the clock, ticking threateningly close to the time he was expected to arrive in Slughorn's dungeon. Harry stood up, clutching his bag awkwardly, "Er, I guess I should go then, let me know, if you can think of a way for me to help you."

The snake nodded once. "I will serve my purposssse" he hissed before slithering off into the book shelf. " That which hasss been asssked, It will be done tonight"

Shaking off a feeling of foreboding Harry broke into a run for the dungeons. Should he mention this to Tom, or should he keep his silence. Perhaps the snake might be a way of collecting information? But then if the snake was reposting to him it was also reposting to Tom and that would be most dangerous. _It will be done tonight._

By the time he had reached Slughorn's office he knew what he would do. He would mention it to Tom subtly, praying that it wouldn't sound as though he, Harry, were keeping secrets. Of course if there was one thing he had learned tonight it was that Tom had not found the chamber of secrets and darkly he realized as he knocked on the office door that it would be better for Harry if he did. Harry wasn't finding this darkest secret and something told him he had to be a lot deeper in Tom's circle to see it.

Slughorn opened the door, beaming jovially, a small glass of sherry clutching in his thick hand. "Harry, welcome!"

There was a table in the middle of the room covered in a white linen and most of the students were sitting there, eyeing him curiously. Tom stood next to a mantel piece and Slughorn having welcomed Harry returned to his side.

Harry took one of the plushy embellished seats and watched as Tom eyes flicked for a moment on to Harry and then back to Slughorn. The table was set with food. There was a slight stiffness in the way the students around him were sitting. A formality but also a smugness. Harry's thoughts began to churn. How was he going to talk to Tom about what he had just heard?

Professor Slughorn turned away from Tom to face Harry. "So, Harry my lad, the word is that you can produce a patronus?"

Harry looked at his expectant face, and felt himself growing a little warm. "Er yeah, I can."

"Well isn't that advanced! They say these foreign schools teach their students differently, I suppose. Where ever did you learn how?"

Harry groped about, suddenly realizing he and Dumbledore had never set a proper story as to where he had been educated before Hogwarts, "My uncle taught me how when I was thirteen"

This was as close to the truth as he could go, after all he did sort of consider Lupin an uncle. He was like a brother to his dad, and to Sirius.

Professor Slughorn seemed very impressed. "Well, well isn't that incredible!" He had picked up a basket of cookies "Biscotti ?"

Harry looked down at biscotti feeling derailed and frustrated. He couldn't talk to Tom and Slughorn himself had a habit of asking questions he had a hard time answering.

Harry took a biscotti and chewed on it idly. Slughorn had began to question the other students, sometimes responding with an indulgent laugh, like a grandfather with his favorite grandchildren.

There was a moment in which Slughorn had bent down under the pretext of explaining something to a boy near the end of the table leaving Harry alone next to Tom in relaitive silence. Harry seized his chance.

" So I met Cronk," he let the faintest traces of a conspiratorial smile toy with his lips. Tom's reaction was barely noticeable it was so small but Harry thought he definitely saw him jerk upright. "He's a bit odd, have you taken to torturing him recently or was he just born like that?"

Tom recovered quickly. "Oh no, he was just as mad when I met him."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well he is a bit lose in the mouth though, asked me what I knew about the chamber of secrets."

Tom was all ice. Harry shifted himself trying to look comfortable. You had to be more than confident to face down Tom Riddle. "Well that is the risk you run, when you choose a servant that talks out loud to himself I suppose, but how many parsletongues are there at Hogwarts?" Tom smiled almost predatorily, "Surely just us two, and I can trust you can't I Harry?"

Harry felt as though his tie were too tight, "Of course."

"You can imagine my surprise at finding just one other parslemouth, I assumed I was the only one. This was an oversight on my part, but I remain convinced that if there were another I would have discovered them by now."

"Would you have known if I hadn't have told you?" Harry asked, taken aback.

Tom looked slightly bothered by this.

Harry glanced around to be sure that no one was listening to them. Professor Slughorn had gathered the rest of the students around him at the end of the table and was showing them something. He had a large cage that had a cloth dangling to the bottom of the bars and was reading from a book. He turned back to Tom.

Tom's eyes were so immediate and intently upon him that he nearly jumped. "Yes, I think I would have. We have a lot in common you and I. I wont pretend I wasn't drawn to you. I would have discovered it in the end."

Tom was by no means a trusting man and Harry felt that this was actually rather a large confidence all things considered. He could feel his fingers shaking. A fear had mixed with a great excitement.

"How do you explain it?" Harry asked.

Tom smiled, but the effect was not it's best. "I don't, not yet at least. Then again I wasn't the only one who seemed to see something in you. Dumbledore marked you almost immediately as well."

"Well, I don't have anything in common with Dumbledore so I don't know how to explain that," Harry cringed inwardly at being so cold toward his mentor. Dumbledore had never done anything but fight for his cause. In reality that was were his loyalty lied. But Dumbledore would want him to do this, Harry thought. He would want him to be clever and brave and find a way to return to his own time. He had a prophecy to uphold.

Harry took a deep breath and tried a new tactic. "But I can tell Dumbledore has power, all kinds of it. Enough to stop us in our tracks. All sorts of people talk about Dumbledore you know. Certain families," Harry paused trying to think of what this new Harry he was acting out might say, "Certain families feel he keeps them in hiding. That even though wizards are the more powerful race, it's us wizards that should be forced into hiding. Like we owe something to the muggles to keep them safe. Now usually, you get a powerful wizard and you get someone like Grindlewald who wants to take over, but that not Dumbledore is it?"

Harry was by parts rehearsing all the abominable opinions he had ever heard mentioned by dark wizards and trying his very hardest to make them sound like his own.

"I mean, he is compassionate but too trusting isn't he? That's where you are different, that's where I am different. We both have power but unlike most wizards you don't seem as afraid to use it. I mean knowledge is power, and you are about as clever as they come Tom. If anyone was going to get away with something under Dumbledore's nose, it would be you."

Tom's eyes were a burning mixture of reserve and was it possible, excitement. Because wasn't Harry practically reciting several of Tom's own beliefs before he had made them known. At last Tom let out a breath, "Nice to meet you at last Harry Potter."

Harry shook his hand feeling a surge of pride in his success.

There was a large amount of ooing and ahing from the group of students at the end of the table. Both Harry and Tom now looked just in time to see that professor Slughorn had taken the sheet off of the cage to reveal a large crimson and deep blue snake curled up and looking less than thrilled by his current condition of habitat.

He was far too large for the particular cage he was held captive in. He looked about the class and hissed bitterly.

" In a cage or I would eat you." He paused. "I should"

Harry smirked and felt Tom's knowing gaze on him and Harry was amazed to sense that there was a kind of privacy to it, that they were sharing a secret meant just for the two of them. Even Harry had to admit, it was strange to be in the presence of another human being and know that they too could understand the hisses as words.

The snake in the cage had met Harry's eye when he smiled.

" You, You willl hellp," the snake seemed to have eyes only for him. " releaasee meee and I will be faithfull."

Harry turned to look at Tom who cocked an eyebrow, evidently amused.

Harry hissed back, "Wouldn't that look awfully suspicious?"

"Ittt mighht Potterr."

Harry frowned. "How do you know my name?"

The snake responded cooly. " Everybody knows your name" The snake swayed now, back and forth back and forth, "Youu, are you Slytherinss heirr?"

Harry shook his head.

The snake sniffed. "No, no you aree not" he sniffed again, "You are very close to it though"

Of course Harry and Voldemort had shared a connection since Harry had had his scar. It would make sense that genetically he shared components with the heir. Enough to nearly fool a snake though? Harry shivered.

The snake seemed fully confused at the resemblance, "So clossse, and yet sssomething is not right.. I feel it now" he looked at Harry for a moment and the said "How disappointing, butt my deall, it stayyss the samme."

Harry and Tom exchanged looks.

0o0o

Ah yes. And Harry is officially undercover. Harry and Tom the team. Rather dangerous don't you think? In any case I hope you enjoyed! As always send me your reviews!


	6. Passages

I'm Baaackk! Boy am I sorry for the wait. But even more then I am sorry for the wait, I am sorry about the computer crash that robbed me of over seventy pages of stories.

They are gone forever, lost to cyber space. This chapter is shorter than I usually make my chapters, perhaps as a side affect of my new technology inspired depression. In any case enjoy and send me your comments. I promise some more meat on chapter seven!

0o0o

The snake was staring at him expectantly but rather then saying something clever he stammer, "What?"

The snake thumped it's body against the cage in a very unelaborated and restless way. "Free me, and I will ssserve you."

Harry eyed the cage Slughorn was keeping the snake in suspiciously. "Why don't you just break yourself out?" The wooden cage didn't look like it would last long if the snake put up much of a fight.

"That would look very suspiciouss master. I would be hunnted"

"They would look for you just the same if I let you out later."

The snake hissed angrily "Stubborn humans, they never can see whatss good for them. Profit, even when it is right under their nose! They call you a Ssslytherin, boy?"

If that was supposed to be a biting insult, Harry had been spared any pain. In any case, Harry thought people were rather too good at seeing profit. He couldn't help but peek conspicuously at Tom, who was watching him with an almost sour smile, a hint of enjoyment about his face.

" I'm Slytherin enough" Harry hissed in a faux anger.

" Yes Master, of course, you have been spared."

Harry blinked, "Er, what?"

"By the true heir."

Harry didn't move his eyes, for he knew that if he turned his head, he would be face to face with the real thing. Harry wanted to ask questions. Why, for instance, or 'what have you heard?' But it seemed very inappropriate with Tom beside him. He held his face stiffly and tried to smirk, "Well that's comforting."

The snake hissed.

"Who is this Heir anyway," Harry asked, "You haven't met if you thought it was me." Harry knew perfectly well who the heir was of course, just as well as he knew what he was wearing, were he was sitting, and even who his parents were.

The snake had become rigid. "Your blood will spillll Potter," Harry had frozen to his seat, "Before the eve, the chamber will open."

Harry's mouth moved wordlessly for a moment, but before he could get an answer from the snake, the snake broke into a low hiss and Professor Slughorn threw the sheet back over the cage. Harry stood up at once, intending to demand a second look when he felt a hand grasped his wrist and pull him down with unrelenting force into his chair. Harry fell back into the wooden seat hard bumping his leg noiselessly as he went.

Harry turned quickly toward Tom, surprised at his speed. He was staring hard at Harry, and when he shook his head, Harry turned back to face Slughorn. He had walked back to the front of the room and the other students were beginning to stand, some yawning some laughing contently. The chill that was spreading through Harry's limbs did not seem to touch them. As he looked around in confusion Harry realized that Tom was also standing and so Harry gathered up his things hastily.

Tom bid Slughorn goodnight and Harry followed him out the door. Once they were in the corridor Tom fell behind the crowd of yawning students and Harry followed suit. When the students had managed a corridor that they hadn't, Tom turned a sharp right behind the statue of a rather shifty looking man with a club and a nasty snarl on his face. Harry watched as Tom tapped on the wall three times before a door appeared. Tom opened the door quickly, and gave Harry a one handed push forward. Harry tumbled into the dark passageway and watched the faint light disappear as Tom quickly shut the door.

Harry pulled his wand out of his pockets and muttered softly to himself "Lumos."

Behind him he heard Tom do the same. "Walk quietly."

Harry nodded, then realizing that Tom probably hadn't seen whispered back "Yeah, ok."

The walked on for what felt like days. The tunnel hadn't changed at all. I was still wide and lined with symmetrically placed rock. Harry was about to ask how much longer they would be walking as a sense of unease was creeping up on him until they came to a set of stairs winding up and out of sight, spiraling away from them.

Toms stopped and looked back at Harry. "Sorry, the tunnel below carries on to the Great Hall, sometimes it echoes" Harry couldn't help but muster a small smile. He was sure that Fred and George hadn't found this one.

"What are we doing?" Harry bafflement evident in his voice.

" Taking a short cut." Tom walked forward and began to ascend the stairs.

Harry followed him, "Were did all this come from?"

"It was rumored that Salazar Slytherin built it in his early years at the school." Tom had stopped in front of a door. Harry looked about and realized that the whole staircase was lined with doors. His mouth fell open.

Tom watched him smiling in a nonchalant way. " It's big isn't it. I'd never seen anything like it when I first came upon it." The tone of his voice was soft now, lethal, almost as though he were talking to himself, "sometimes I feel that I alone have dug deepest, that I know this school's secrets as I know myself."

Harry remembered that Tom had been raised in an orphanage. He must have been stunned when he had come to Hogwarts, Harry himself remembered how shocking it had been.

"Were do all the doors go?"

Tom looked around smoothly. "It's sort of like an antechamber, They lead to most of the dungeons, I think Salazar made it so that the Slytherins could move about with ease and secrecy when they needed to."

Harry had to admit, for a sick pure blood psychopath, Slytherin certainly had been productive and effective. In fact, as much caused him slight sickness to admit it, the idea was genius.

Tom pointed to the second door. "That door will take you to the corridor that leads to the common rooms."

Harry nodded. Frowning as he touched the door knob, "Aren't you coming?"

Tom smirked. " I have something I need to do before curfew."

Harry's palm felt moist against the brass, he didn't like the way Tom was smiling at all. But then what could he do about? Any nasty thing Tom was about to do he was going to do anyway, regardless of whether or not Harry could stop him. After all, he couldn't rewrite history, no matter how present it felt. It took all his self control to open the door quietly, "Right, I'll catch up with you later then."

The corridor was vacant so Harry stepped out, trying to squash down the urge to turn back and follow once Tom had had enough time to clear the first spiral of the stair case. The second the door shut behind him however it began melding back into stone and Harry could see that his opportunity to follow, whether he decided to or not was gone.

Harry could hear his own breathing in the empty hall. How had Tom gotten in? Harry pulled out his wand and tapped the stone wall three times. Nothing happened. That was what Tom had done however. Why wouldn't it work for him? Sometimes the magic about Hogwarts had rules. Harry thought of the room of requirement. Perhaps it only opened up for Slytherins? Then Harry remembered somewhat reluctantly that he _was_ a Slytherin. If that were it, the door should work for him. Harry tapped the wall three more time to no avail. What if the door had a password? Maybe the same as the one to the common room? Harry didn't remember Tom saying a password, but he bent nearer non the less. He looked around covertly before whispering to the stone eagerly. "Catalyst."

The wall remained, stubbornly solid. Harry thought hard, knowing that with every minute he was losing Tom, that the secret he needed so badly was creeping away. What if it really was like the room of requirement and he had to think about it? To really need it. Harry tapped the wall the three time, remembering as he did that similarly you had to walk in front of the room of requirement three times, and thought about how much he needed the passageway. Harry opened his eyes hopefully and was once more staring at solid stone.

Disappointed Harry stood there. Finally it dawned on him. Some wizards could do spells without speaking. Tom had said something, done something in his mind, and Harry couldn't hear it. Why would he have done that, he thought angrily. Because he didn't want to be followed. Finally Harry comprehending what Tom had just done.

Harry ran his hands though his hair. He had been outsmarted.

There was nothing more he could do. He could keep guessing, but that could take decades. Reluctantly Harry set off for the common room. Grumbling and muttering Harry came to the portrait of Slytherin who was looking down at him, his eyes frozen, smirking.

"Catalyst," Harry mumbled entering the common room.

All was quiet. Malfoy was directly before the fire talking under his breath as he wrote his potions essay, and three others boys sat in the corner, attempting to order the moons of Jupiter from smallest to largest. In the most distant corner from the fire sat a girl who had wedged herself into a space between the chair and the table next to it, and was reading a book, humming. The rest of the Slytherins seemed to have called it a night and Harry did so as well. He climbed the stairs and threw himself into bed, his anger and frustration beginning to ebb away.

The next Morning he woke feeling tired, and weak. Saturday had arrived at last, and with it the freedom to do what ever he pleased. To his mixed displeasure and relief, this entitled a lot of time in the library as it was his best source of knowledge and the closest thing to a refuge Harry could find from the sea of Slytherins he was now forced to live among.

He dressed thoughtlessly and donned his new sliver and green scarf and gloves, in doing so feeling distantly mutinous. He was beginning to accept it however. He was a Slytherin now, there was nothing to be done. He walked to the great hall on his own, grabbed himself a few pieces of toast and abandoned the hall for the library. Unfortunately he found it full of studying students, fifth years and seventh years especially preparing for the exams they would need to face by the end of the year. The weather outside was crisp and sunny and so Harry abandoned his original plan for a seat under the beech tree near the lake. He would simply grab a few books and make his way outside.

He walked slowly munching his toast, darkly distracted by the week that had passed. His lack of knowledge about Toms late nights were beginning to bother him. He thought of the snake commanding the spilling of his own blood. Harry swallowed the toast dryly and jumped the cloth fence to the restricted section and browsed idly. After selecting volumes on Occlumency, he collected a book entitled _Blood Rights_ and a book of famous witches and wizards. He was hoping to find out as much as he could about Salazar Slytherin. It seemed that it was within his house that the secret Harry needed was to be found.

Feeling satisfied Harry was halfway towards the exit when an idea hit him. He doubled back and grabbed _Hogwarts A History_ as an after thought. _If only Hermione knew, _he thought grinning. She had been persuading him to read Hogwarts a history since their third year. Harry was halfway across the entrance hall,

"Oy! Potter."

Harry turned slowly, escape so near and the sunny day waiting for him.

It was the boy who had delivered him his transfiguration book to him for Dumbledore. Terrence Flint was attempting to push himself through the crowd of people who were leaving the library. Sighing Harry approached him ignoring the looks of a tall blonde Gryffindor boy who had stopped to watch Harry as he tried to push his way through the thicket of people. Terrence with a smirk, was pulling something out of his pocket. He handed Harry a slip of paper which Harry took and without stopping to look at it, shoved in his bag.

"Thanks." Harry muttered, sure that whatever it was, was not for the eyes of the passing second years who were eyeing Harry curiously.

Terrence shrugged, "Later."

Harry watch him ferret his was back out of the library and made to leave himself, anxious to reach the outdoors and read whatever it was Terrence had just slipped him. He might have even done so if the Gryffindor who had been eyeing him suspiciously hadn't muscled his way in front of him. Harry collided with him, throwing out a hand to keep his balance.

The boy jerked away from his and Harry literally fell headfirst, stunned at how quickly he had lost his balance. The Gryffindor burst into unkind and raucous laughter.

Harry scowled struggling back to his feet. None of the Gryffindors he knew would have laughed that way at someone who wasn't already a known enemy would they?

The Gryffindor continued to laugh mercilessly, and Harry could feel his pulse rising.

"What?" he snapped.

The boy shook his head. " It's too bad you can't buy balance. It seems like you Slytherins can pay for everything else."

A fast and liquid hatred of the of this Gryffindor was flooding through Harry. How dare this boy talk to him like that? What did he know? Harry wasn't just a Slytherin. He had been a Gryffindor, spent most of his life as the boy who lived. The resentment was suddenly so huge it threatened to swallow him. To his surprise he was clutching his wand in his robes pocked.

The boy laughed again at the outraged look on Harry face and shoved past him. Harry forced his hand off his wand, bidding himself not to think of the vast new archive of nastier curses he would love to throw after him.

Harry spent the rest of the chilly autumn afternoon outside. The sky was clear and the wind was sending the leaves that had fallen from the trees of the forbidden forest scuttling across the lawn that slopped off near the lakes edge. It was a day Hermione might have been proud of, if only she had not seen the content of the majority of his reading. Inside the book _Blood Rights _Harry found enough unpleasantness to last him a life time, it was rife with dark and complicated magic. The book on Salazar Slytherin meanwhile had the alarming habit of growing more and more confusing as he read it until finally Harry was sure he was reading nothing but limericks and riddles The boko about occlumency was another matter.

An idea that had struck him during his previous encounter with Tom. Harry might be looking for secrets, but he himself was holding some very precious secrets himself. Who knew how accomplished Tom might already be at unlocking thoughts from their owners minds. As night began to fall, shivering Harry packed his bag and began his walk toward the castle.

The entrance hall was a warm, delicious smelling relief. His cheeks flushed and his ears began to ache. Harry could hear the rumble of students meeting up for dinner. When he entered the great hall the ceiling was scattered with stars and the seats packed, the talk of students forming a great cloud of excitement. Harry was ravenous and had soon eaten more than his share of dinner. By the time desserts came, Harry was clutching his stomach in pain and he barely noticed the figure standing over him. Harry only looked up when he noticed the towering shadow of the lone figure looming over the pudding he was half heartedly eyeing.

His stare was met by Grodisius Malfoy's cold one.

"What?" Harry asked, holding his stomach with one hand and reaching for the pudding with the other. He watched Harry spoon himself great dollops of it before speaking.

" Have you seen Tom?" Grodisius was fingering the cuff of his robes. He looked nervous, maybe even weary. Harry couldn't possibly think why he might be. Perhaps Tom was mad at him, perhaps both of them and Harry ought to be nervous as well.

Harry shook his head and swallowed his pudding, "Not today." Malfoy watched him with a grim expression, "Would you like me to tell him something if I run into him?" Harry asked.

Malfoy hesitated, casting Harry a very untrusting look. " Just tell him I'm looking for him."

Harry shrugged. "Ok."

Grodisius turned quickly on his heel leaving Harry finish his dessert which was suddenly much less appetizing. He was full and sleepy, perhaps from fighting off cold all morning. Harry shoved away his plate, resigned to turning in his books before the library closed and sleeping off the nightmare of his life. The full great hall babble seemed to die down as he turned the corner of a deserted corridor. The halls were dimly lit and chilly and he had only reached the second floor before he felt the sensation that he was being watched crawl over his skin. He stopped, and held his breath, still in the silence listening for the faint sound he thought he had picked up a corridor below but was unable to place it. This did not make him feel anymore at ease, if anything he felt his sense of wariness heighten. After a moments baited breath Harry picked up his pace down the corridor.. He entered the library grateful for the watchful eyes of the librarian and inhaled the familiar musty scent. He returned his books and it was only as he was slipping the occlumency book into his bag, having decided to keep it that he realized what the sound he had felt so dogged by in the corridor was.

The sound of someone quietly breathing.

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All righty, So this was late and a chapter that was mostly for building so that the next can be more interesting. Still I hope you all enjoyed! R&R! Thanks for all responses I have been getting!


	7. Assualted, Guilty and Knocked Out

Hello people! I know I was off for a while, and that the last chapter was not full of suspense but hopefully this will get the plot moving! As always R&R I really do need the criticism and the remarks to keep me going sometimes. This chapter addresses some dark issues that are coming up and I am excited to see what you think!

Claimer: I own everything that you do not recognize. Ho ho.

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He wandered back to the common room slowly, despite the prickle on the back of his neck. The less time he had to spend with the wakeful Slytherins the better. It wasn't until he came to that same lonely stretch of corridor he had paused in before that he came to a complete and abrupt halt. He wasn't sure at first what had made him stop, but as his eyes wandered the length of stone wall, flickering in the light of the torches he found his answer dangling from the torch bracket in a tragically familiar way. He froze, fighting the urge to shrink away. There hung the deep blue snake Harry had seen in Professor Slughorn's office only the night before. It's eyes now opalescent and steamy fixed unseeingly on Harry.

Even from where he was standing Harry could just make out the traces of blood trickling swiftly down the snakes long, muscular body. _How had the snake gotten here? _surely Tom wouldn't have done this? But then who and why? Surely no one else could understand the snake, could understand the words in his hisses. Had Tom sent Harry a message? A cool draft played with the ankles of Harry's robes and he remembered with a sickening jolt how he had been so uneasy walking this stretch of corridor only a half an hour before. Had he been feet away from who ever if was that had attached the snake to the bracket?

Harry had moved close enough to read the message that the person had traced into the stone in what appeared to be ash. The words were burnt, and black but discernable.

"_Can you hear me now?"_

Something was bubbling up inside of Harry and before he had even realized it he realized a sharp bark of a laugh had left him. _Insanity. _He was surrounded by insane people. Insane, evil people. Not a single person he had met could be trusted.

Harry was backing away, forcing himself to go, to go before anyone else came upon this spot and found him standing there, transfixed by the dangling monstrosity when a glint of something silver caught his eye. Hesitating, peering closer than he had yet dared Harry could see that also entwined along the bracket was what looked like a necklace. Gently unlacing it from the bracket, careful not to knot the chain as he did so, Harry freed it from the snakes body. He was of half a mind to lift it to the firelight and examine its engravings when the trample of oncoming students alerted him that dinner must have ended.

Harry shoved the necklace into his robes pocket and began to run, unsure of where he was going, only conscious of his need to be away from the corridor when other students reached it. He realized a corridor up that he was making his way back toward the library. Yes, then he might be able to circle around and pretend he was only just making his way back to his dormitory as well. If the snake had gathered a crowd then he could work his way back through and pretend to be shocked like the rest.

Several of the portraits watched him dart by, making disapproving noises as he lunged himself past them. After he had successfully surged down three corridors he stopped, panting. Leaning against the wall Harry breathed, trying not to appear short of breath.

It was like a dazzling rendition of how his second year had felt, always being the one to discover the crime only this time, if he were caught what were the odds that Dumbledore would believe him? Harry shivered and pressed his fingers against his eyes thinking. Tiny white dots appeared like stars. He willed himself to relax, to concentrate. This had no noticeable connection to the chamber of secrets. But that in and of itself made it more bizarre. One thing was certain- if it was a work of Tom, and it was more than likely it was, he hadn't done it himself. It was too blunt to be in keeping with Tom's act, the eager orphan who was so polite and charming. No, if he had had something to do with it he had sent someone else to do the deed. Which meant there was more than one person capable of stringing up a dead animal up a wall in his midst.

A noise disrupted him, not five feet away from where he stood. Harry took his hands away from his eyes which were now blurry but perfectly capable of taking in the look on Tom cruelly calm face.

"Tom?" The uncertainty in his voice was obvious. A smile flickered over his handsome features which seemed oddly gaunt in the fire light. Harry took a deep breath, willing himself to appear calm. "What's going on?"

" I was going to ask you."

Harry leaned against the wall to take the weight of his legs which felt like jelly. Of course if Tom hadn't a clue what was going on they were really in trouble, but that was a big if. Harry suddenly was seized with the urge to lie, to pretend his was only on his way back from the library but he couldn't help feeling that Tom had already he had seen what had sent Harry running back up the passageway.

Tom smirked at the blank look on Harry's face. They could both hear the sound of a crowd gathering not far away, no doubt around the snake. Tom began to walk in the direction of the clamor and motioned with his head that Harry should follow. He did so without hesitation. More to fill the silence than anything Harry voiced What Malfoy had left with him at dinner. "Grodisius was looking for you."

A cold sneer curled Tom's lip. "I know."

Harry felt a pang of remorse for Malfoy. Tom's smile hid within it the promise of dislike or pain. They had reached the small crowd of students whispering excitedly, all attempting to edge closer to the bracket. Harry fingered the necklace in his pocket nervously. Tom stood aside as professor Dippit rushed past. Harry watched the students move aside to let him pass followed by Dumbledore. Harry immediately stepped into their stride. He followed in their wake until they had reached the front of the exited crown of pupils.

The grisly sight in front of him was just as gasp worthy the second time. Tom looked indifferent save the flicker in his eyes, which Harry knew had nothing to do with being disgusted and more to do with anger. A new thought occurred to him. Was it possible that someone had been in fact been posing a threat not meant for him, but Tom instead?

Dumbledore had reached the front and was looking out through weary eyes at the gang of excited Slytherins spotted with nervous Hufflepuffs no doubt headed toward the kitchens.

He looked tired, and Harry noticed his steady gaze lingered for a moment longer over Tom and himself than it had anyone else. The crowd was growing larger as students, either on their way, or having heard of the morbid attraction shifted into the corridor, looking concerned, apprehensive and curious. Harry tried to make direct eye contact with Dumbledore, but found that he wouldn't meet his confused eyes. A confused and trembling Hufflepuff was whispering to her friends, "What is it? Was it peeves?"

Harry turned to see if Tom had noticed and found the place that he had filled minutes before vacant. Sighing deeply Harry rose to his toes to see were he had gone. He was nowhere to be seen. Overcome by how suspicious this was and in no mood to bear Dumbledore's disappointed gaze Harry began to fight his through the crowd again praying that Tom wouldn't have been able to slip away entirely. After being elbowed in the stomach and slapped in the head by an excited gesture, Harry broke out of the mass of students and pelted around the corner toward the great hall, in the opposite direction of every other student. For surely he would have went this way? He passed the Great Hall and following intuition alone ran right down the set of steps leading to the dungeons.

Harry, who normally would have taken a full thirty minutes to decide which way to go suddenly seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He turned left, then right, then right, then left, and then a right again before stopping short. Sure enough, as though by miracle, there at the end of the hall was Tom. He wasn't alone. Trembling and agitated under Tom's gaze was Grodisius Malfoy.

Tom's face was white and furious, Grodisius was backed against a wall, his movements were odd and quick and his voice was higher and more choppy then Harry was accustomed to. All traces of his languorous drawl were silenced.

"Tom, I, I don't know how. Why would you ask me to do this?"

Tom scowled, "Clearly I was mistaken Malfoy, in leaving you with such a simple task. Next time I will be sure to leave it in the hands of someone more competent."

Harry pressed his back against the wall and clamped his hand across his mouth to silence his panting. He chanced another glimpse around the corner.

Malfoy's face was pink and his mouth etched in a sneer that was too much involved with his eyes to look as angry at it should have.

" I am trying it is just going to take more time."

Tom scoffed, "Of course, after all it's not as if you can do magic."

Malfoy flushed, and his hand jerked.

" This is mere child's play Malfoy, If you are unable to give me the information I need I promise I will find someone who can and that you will pay dearly for it."

Harry was backing up now because even though Malfoy continued to plea for more time he could hear Tom's footsteps coming in his direction. Harry stumbled backward and felt his back press into the wall. Surely Tom would see him. Thinking quickly for a distraction, anything that might buy him time Harry remembered the spell in Toms book. The concealment charm. Closing his eyes and hunching low Harry whispered, "Celos," willing himself to vanish from sight, to be one with the wall. The vacuum like whooshing sound told him he had succeeded. Opening his eyes Harry waved his arm and found that it matched the wall behind him, as though he were a man sized chameleon. Harry let out a breath of relief and exhilaration.

At the moment Tom strode around the corner with a graceful stride. He no longer looked angry. He had hidden it inside himself, and looked as collective as ever. No wonder the girls seemed to love him, with that mixture of trustworthiness and unshakable charm. He was the master of deception and Harry realized with a lurch that he had no business trying to beat Tom at his own game. Harry certainly wasn't more clever, but he did have the exact advantage of knowing the future and with that encouraging thought Harry leaned back as far as he could and tried not to breathe as Tom passed him.

Just when Harry thought it had worked Tom stopped dead in his tracks, some six feet ahead of him. Panic began to blossom in his chest.

_Surely, not? _Tom couldn't sense him? Tom had taken his wand out of his robes and was standing very still and in his heart of hearts Harry knew that if anyone knew the spell to reveal him Tom would. He was about to be caught, Harry thought miserably. His plan to get back to his own time would be a failure. No one would ever trust him. Down the hall Harry could hear Malfoy muttering to himself, a partner in his misery. A partner..

Pointing his wand in the proper direction and throwing all sense to the winds Harry squeezed his eyes shut. It had worked once before…and concentrated very hard on his spell. _"Incendio" _

The was a great rustling noise followed by a shriek. The bottom of Malfoy's robes had caught fire. Tom had turned, shocked. Malfoy was flailing, muttering almost incoherently. "These were made custom!"

Tom had stepped back, looking around for the intruder he had had enough shrewdness to sense. With a jerk of his wand Harry muttered, "Accio Malfoy!"

The result was spectacular, playing out almost as if in slow motion. Malfoy's eyes widened, Tom turned on the spot just as Malfoy let out one last gurgling yell before speeding at them like rocket. Tom threw himself out of the way just in time to miss being struck by the in air meteor that was Malfoy. Taking one last look at the scene of bizarre and unexplained chaos he had just reeked as though he were the conductor of some great pandemonium Harry took off running before Tom could get back to his feet.

Harry remembered to lift his own disillusionment charm just feet before reaching the portrait of Salazar. The portrait swung open and Harry jumped into the warm Slytherin common room. Hardly daring to believe his luck Harry dove for the nearest couch with several of his books determined to be hard at work studying before either Malfoy or Riddle should find him.

Tom was the first to enter the common room only a few minuets later. Harry looked up from his books. Tom's face gave nothing away, not his strange talk with Malfoy and certainly not the fiery attack that had followed as he looked as though he had just been out for a walk.

By far more amusing was Malfoy's staggering entrance through the portrait hole. His robes were burned to his knees and he lacked much of his normal swagger. His face was covered in soot, and his eyebrows had been singed in the same way Ron's cuffs had been at the Yule ball. Harry didn't bother trying not the laugh for he was not the only one. Most of the common room had broken out into various forms of sniggering laugher.

Harry finished the ending for his essay and made his way to the Slytherin dormitory. It was warm and dark, rather like an insulated den. Harry took off his shoes and emptied his pockets. Only then did he remember the note, folded elegantly with Dumbledore's handwriting scrawled across the surface that the boy had delivered to him in the library.

Then, with a second strike of excitement he extracted the neck lace from his pocket as well. Drawing the hangings shut he lit his wand.

The pendant was circular and the words ran around it in dizzying coils, made of aging silver the words were difficult to read.

_The autumn will end in friendship_

_For autumn will always bring an end_

_With the snow will come new life _

_To sprout in the spring and_

_With the sun bring fresh death._

_As the summer ends _

_Gryffindor will reclaim his heir_.

Harry read it twice, then thrice. This was not what he had been expecting. Harry went back to the part about Gryffindor's heir. Gryffindor didn't have an heir. Harry thought for a moment. With the sun death. With the sun, did that mean summer? It seemed to refer to seasons, but perhaps it didn't mean summer. Perhaps it meat something else entirely.

Harry pulled open his hangings and shoved the necklace into a draw in the table by his bed before turning his attention to the note. He had ripped it open when he heard someone else enter the dormitory. Harry looked up to see Tom who looked as though he was in the mood to do some major thinking. He wasn't muttering but Harry could tell there was something on his mind. He looked up and saw Harry, his expression changed from one of deep thought, to one of perfect calm. His emotions were erased from his face faster then Harry have managed. Harry hastily moved the letter form sight.

Tom smiled, " I'm sorry,"

He had obviously seen the letter. Trying not to appear hesitant Harry lifted it back up into view.

"Its fine." He unfolded it and began to read,

_Harry, _

_I request that you meet me in my office at eight o'clock on Friday. I have matters of your schooling to discus with you. I'm sure you understand. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Professor Dumbledore_

Harry thought back remembering Terrence Flint delivering the letter and that strange rude blonde Gryffindor who had laughed at him unprovoked. Tom was going through his trunk, lost in concentration. Clearing his throat, "Hey Tom, I met the rudest blonde Gryffindor in the library. Complete prat. Any idea who he is?"

Tom who hadn't stopped rummaging through his trunk replied rather off handedly, "Well, I couldn't say for sure but from the description you just gave me, I'd say you ran into Allen Weasley." Tom had finally pulled the book he wanted out of his trunk. He stood and opened it, leafing through the pages idly. "I think you'll find you aren't the only Slytherin who dislikes him," he added absently.

Harry was stunned. It couldn't be Arthur Weaslys father? Arthur and his sons and daughter were all kind, funny, brave people whose trust Harry had cherished in his six year at Hogwarts. They were the closest thing Harry had to a family, the type of people that Harry would like to think would be hard pressed to laugh at somebody cruelly. But then, Harry thought with a sinking feeling, Ron had a habit of being unkind and the whole family were a bit stubborn in their way of thinking.

Tom had looked up from his book and seemed to be taking in Harry's confused look. "What did Dumbledore want with you?"

Harry stared, "What?"

"In the letter," Tom stated simply, taking off his watch and tossing it onto his bed.

Harry blinked, unnerved, "He wants to meet with me and talk about my schooling."

Tom let a ghost of a smile flicker over his face. "When?"

"Friday." Harry folded the letter and placed it on his bed side table.

Tom smirked. " Be careful." Closing his book he cast Harry a look of what he must have assumed was shared disdain for Dumbledore and left the room. Harry sat there for a long time before falling asleep.

The next few days were busy for Harry, and he spent more of his free time in the library. He was especially keen to avoid the common room after the attack on Grodisius Malfoy who though clueless was especially mean spirited. He had been bitter and miserable for days, and had picked up the excruciating new habit of cursing the first years out of his way when he was storming.

Harry meanwhile had been poring through many the books in the library looking for a mention of the Gryffindor's heir . All of his results, cross referencing, and seemingly endless reading however seemed to bring him back to Slytherin's heir, but Harry was already aware of that little snare in Hogwarts history. By Thursday afternoon Harry was worn out because on top of having to solve the greatest mystery Hogwarts had to offer, there was also homework. Little though it had first occurred to him it know seemed obvious that most pivotal to his plan was to stay in school and in order to do so he must conquer his sixth year work load.

Sitting half hidden in a corner and trying to remember whether it was Mendlin the Weird who had created a spell that engulfed the body in warm green flames, or Whorl the Dizzy who had coincidentally accidentally murdered her entire village and those near it in a potions explosion was not a pleasant way to spend an afternoon. Especially when he was already spending half his time on the lookout for the beady eyed librarian who had not taken a liking to him though she always seemed to be most assistive when Tom was in their midst. It was to his surprise however that upon looking up on a regular librarian check he caught the sight of a snake's tail near the window frame.

Speaking low, Harry hissed, "Cronk?"

There was a pause before his little head found its way up past the window cushion, "Master?" He asked hopefully, his tongue tasting the air.

" I wish you wouldn't call me that," Harry muttered, feeling uneasy thinking of the last snake that had dared to call him that. "What're you doing?"

The snakes head bobbed slowly, "Tormentting the housse elvess of course."

Harry could only imagine the look on his friends face. SPEW would have a field day.

" Oh, well that's-" Harry searched for the word, "Nice for you, I guess."

The snake nodded appreciatively. " Thank you, I could show masster if he wished?" the snake offered.

Harry shook his head as fast as he could, thinking of Dobby, "Oh no, that's alright Cronk."

The snake bobbed up and down decisively. "Master Riddle liked it, he praised me for my cunning."

" I'm sure he did." Harry muttered. The snake looked a little confused. Harry continued "Listen, er, I've got a lot of work to be doing,"

Cronk hissed. "So does massster Tom, ssoo bussy he seemss to me these dayss. He doesn't tell me as much as he used to, although he has never been one to share much."

Harry had an inkling about why Tom had stopped sharing so much with Cronk. It was because Tom wasn't the only person who could understand parse tongue at Hogwarts anymore. Harry could get information from him Cronk too. Perhaps he didn't want Harry to be getting knowledge from Cronk before Tom gave it to him himself. This made Harry nervous. Surely he must share some meadure of his plan with the student death eaters?

If he was honest, Harry was beginning to wonder why Tom wasn't trying to recruit him. Maybe Tom thought there was more to Harry than what met the eye? He was right of course. Still, it meant that Harry was not being convincing enough. Harry was about to ask Cronk if he had gleaned any new information from Tom about the chamber when a sudden pain rendered him incapable of speech. Blind to pain to the pain in his scar Harry opened his mouth to cry out before his body felt the cold stone floor. The dusty rug. That was the last thing Harry was able to see before it all went dark.

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Oh another building chapter. But not to worry. Because I've got a pretty keen idea of how this story is going to play out in the next few chapters. Things are going to start getting darker soon. In fact the whole story is about to shift. I hope you all are enjoying it! There may even be a few answers to all the questions posed. As always please send me your reviews! They often inspire me! Thanks for reading!


	8. The Truth Was A Stetch

Hey it is another chapter up! Thanks to everyone who has been reading and especially those who have been reviewing (seriously though, I jest, I take no favorites). There are just a few short chapters left before things start to change in this story and I'm really enjoying plotting it all out! Hope you enjoy!

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Harry was swimming, everything around him was warm like bath water. He could hear voices just above him, unrecognizable and unimportant. He wanted to tell them to go away, to be quiet but he was too heavy as though he had swallowed rocks and sank to the bottom of the prefects bathroom pool. Just thinking about it made him feel as though he were suffocating, dimly Harry fought against his robes that had bundled up about him and slowly the room came into was lying in the hospital wing, there were no robes after all it was the sheets that had drawn up tightly over him. Disoriented and hot Harry struggled to sit upright- what was he doing here?The library, he had definitely been there and with Cronk. That was when his scar had begun to hurt. Harry closed his eyes finding even the memory made him feel dizzy with remembered pain. His scar had flared to life and he had felt it, white hot jubilation, before he had fainted. The voices at the end of the hall had stopped. Professor Dippit had noticed that he was awake and had swept to the bottom of his bed leaving Dumbledore staring grimly after him by the door. Harry's eyes remained on Dumbledore until professor Dippit reached him. Harry made a motion to sit up but Dippit dismissed it with a flick of his hand, " Goodness no boy, don't sit up for me, you may have sustained a head trauma!" Harry blinked at him, for a moment flabbergasted, still searching in vain with his eyes for his wand.

"Harry, there is no need to excite yourself, we are just here to make sure that you are all right."

Harry felt a jolt of annoyance at the patronizing expression on Dippit's face. He would have traded a sack of his own galleons for this man to go away while he was so disoriented. Wishing he had something more clever to say, Harry bit back his dislike and lied through his teeth, "Thank you professor, I appreciate it." Resisting the urge to run his had across his scar Harry settled back into his pillows, "What happened, how did I get here?"

Professor Dippit gave him a sympathetic if wearied look, as though he didn't much like standing by a sick bed. "Mr. Riddle found you and informed Mrs. Twittlebud. She is the of course, the matron nurse on duty here."

Harry nodded feeling somewhat pleased that Tom hadn't simply left him there to die. He would have to thank him later. Harry looked back at professor Dippit who was still staring at him with that expression of mingled concern and unease and Harry realized he really ought to offer an explanation. "I'm sorry professor. I was up so late last night studying, I must have dozed off, slid out of my chair and hit my head on the floor." He paused and pretended to look embarrassed feeling as though he were laying it on thick. To his surprise professor Dippit didn't seem to think so at all. "I see, well, there is no need to be ashamed Harry, I'm sure you were not our library's the first victim of drowsiness." He paused for a benign smile. "It is only lucky that Mr. Riddle found you! I must make a note to award him five house points when I see him next. Surely you won't disagree Harry!"

Harry grinned awkwardly before asking what was really on his mind, "Well, you know, I'm feeling just fine, would it be ok for me to go back to the common room and er, take a nap?"

Professor Dippit looked as though he was of half a mind to say no but Dumbledore, who had been silently watching them stepped in, "As Harry here does not look as though he is in any immediate danger of collapse, why don't we send him to bed Armando?"

Dippit considered this briefly, "Right then, toddle off to bed Mr. Potter and mind you, no studying!" Harry took great care when he stood to disguise the lasting dizziness he still felt, knowing that the modern Dumbledore knowing more about his scar would most certainly would have held him in the hospital wing for a day before releasing him. Because he most certainly had not fallen asleep. He hadn't passed out because his head had hit the floor either.

"Thank you professor." The moment Harry was out of the door and alone in the corridor he let the plastered smile slip from his face. He felt shivery and suddenly afraid. He had never been so alone, without anyone to consult about his scar. With a sinking feeling Harry recalled that Tom had found him. Surely wouldn't buy the falling asleep and hitting his head story?

"Catalyst." The portrait hole admitted him into the common room. The fire was crackling and clusters of students had gathered to finish essays, the babble of talk was low and soothing. Harry was so happy to be out of the common room that he felt almost as though he had come home. It was his first pang of loyalty for the Slytherin space and it surprised him. Perhaps his rightful house was Gryffindor but hadn't the hat wanted him here, in the dungeons from the start? For a moment Harry imaged what his life might have been like if he had been sorted into Slytherin instead in his first year but found that he couldn't. There was too much bad blood between himself and those modern day Slytherins. But here, where no one knew his name? He could be at home here.

Harry threw himself into an armchair by the fire, and slung his bag onto the floor. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring into the flames, feeling both lousy and ill. The last thing he remembered was closing his eye, just to rest them before sleep took him.

At some point he began to dream. He was watching a show and on the stage, rather than actors there stood a row of seals performing elaborate tricks. Each seal balanced a ball with professor Dippit's face on it. High up above the stage and framed by the red velvet cushions was Dumbledore, looking down with that same grim expression. He awoke, disturbed.

The common room was silent and the fire low. He wondered how long he had slept. Standing up, he just noticed Tom sitting in a chair in the far corner. He looked up as though he had sensed Harry watching him and offered a hollow smile and murmured softly, "I wondered when you were going to wake up."

Harry rubbed his sore back wishing he hadn't slept for so long sitting up. He could feel Tom's gaze and he remembered that if it hadn't have been for Tom, he might still be out cold on the library floor. "Thanks, for earlier," he started 's mouth twitched in the direction of a smile. Harry had the distinct feeling that Tom had been expecting this, had perhaps had even known that he would falter uncomfortably. It was a little unnerving. Harry swallowed hard, willing himself to remember that Voldemort was only sixteen. Dangerous certainly, but not yet that slit eyed monster he would become.

"Did you expect me to leave you there?" Tom's eyes were bright as though he found this nearly amusing.

Harry chose not to answer this honestly and smirked instead. In fact the sleep had not left him drowsy but alert and he felt perhaps emboldened by the low fire light, as though he had been removed from the rest of the world. "Tom?" Tom looked back up from his reading, a finger holding his place, "You probably figured out who killed the snake."

Tom blinked in surprise and muttered calmly and softly" I have my suspicions."

Harry had expected this. "Who was it?"

Tom hesitated, his dark eyes unfathomable, "I couldn't say for sure of course," he closed the book in his lap, "I have your word you won't repeat it to anyone?"

It was as though the blood had ceased it course through Harry's body and he was trapped in that dark handsome stare, "Of course not."

Tom smiled in a mournful sort of way, "If I had to fathom a guess, I would say it was Grodisius Malfoy."

Harry felt his happiness fade away. Malfoy? Who always seemed so terrified of Tom? Harry hardly knew what to think except that Tom was lying to him. His excitement was replaced by resentment. "If you don't want to tell me you can just say so."

Tom's pale face flickered for a moment before he laughed, perhaps the most open laugh Harry had heard yet. "You seemed convinced enough."

Harry grinned, suddenly aware they were alone in the common room, "Yeah, convincing until the end.

Tom sat back, surveying him in that intent way he did when Harry was impertinent. "Where did I loose you?"

"I believed you until Grodsisius Malfoy, the rest was all very good but Malfoy's a coward."

Tom shrugged noiselessly. "You are a fast observer Harry."

Harry didn't know what to say to this so he persisted. "If it wasn't Malfoy who was it? I wasn't lying when I promised not to tell."

Tom took him in for a moment, "I suppose you would believe me even less if I told you it was Morgana Myrtle?" Tom was watching him, "You may not remember but you met her on your first day trying to find your way to class."

Harry blanched. He couldn't mean Moaning Myrtle? Suddenly as though watching a film he recalled the stuttering girl he had stopped for a course schedule on his first day. Was it possible that he had simply not recognized her, smiling and whole and no longer transparent?

Harry tried to picture the moping girl he knew killing animals and found it made very little sense" Why?" he asked aloud.

Tom smiled somewhat appreciatively but did not speak. Harry looked up at him vaguely angry and annoyed that Tom wasn't telling him what he wanted to know. Tom smiled, obviously reading the look of disbelief in his eyes and his smile became a smirk. "Just trust me Harry."

Harry rubbed his nose, trying not appear bothered, "Did you ever go to Slughorn? Tell him about it?"

"Yes, I mentioned it to him." Harry nodded, somehow sure if he asked Slughorn he would know nothing about it. Still, it seemed to him that whoever had killed the snake might have known something about the chamber of secrets. Harry broke out of his chain of though. He would have to ask Slughorn about it the next day. Tom seemed to have noticed that Harry had fallen into thought because he called Harry back by saying. " Don't think about it Harry, the situation is under control I promise you."

Harry gave a small nod, "Ok, I wont think about it again."

Despite this promise, that night as Harry was falling asleep he spent a long time staring at the top of his four poster, thinking of ways he might be able to have a private conversation alone with Slughorn the next day.

The next morning dawned, cold and windy. The sky was a bitter, fall blue. Not for the first time he was roused by a loud and angry commotion in the dormitory. This was not so out of the ordinary and Harry was coming to rely upon it as something of an alarm clock. Most of the other boys in his dorm seemed to feel the same way. Nobody ever bothered to tell Malfoy not to pick on red headed boy, and Harry had learned to just ignore it. Pulling back his hangings he saw the rest of the boys in his year pulling back their own blankets and hangings. Every bed had opened except from one.

Tom's bed had already been vacated. He was always up later and up earlier. Harry didn't know how he did it but it spoke of his need to avoid detection and the price of sleep it must be costing him was high.

Harry didn't think about this though, as he had other things on his mind. He had made up his mind to talk to Slughorn, to talk him into telling him about the night that the snake disappeared. He had the whole of potions first period to work out a way.

Harry dragged himself out of bed and dressed hastily. He sat in the great hall tense and anxious formulating the beginning of his plan when his eyes trailed off to a girl sitting quietly, reading her text book, only her glasses and hair visible. Feeling sick Harry stood and decided that he would go to the classroom early, perhaps that would inspire a plan.

Harry reached the classroom, the first to stand in line outside it's doors. Only subconsciously aware of what he was doing Harry withdrew his wand and opened the door. He let them fall shut behind him. The classroom was empty, yet lit and ready for the students that would be arriving any moment. Harry moved quickly to Slughorn's office door and was about to knock when he heard voices from inside.

"Of course, you passed with flying colors on your last test. I think that it is hardly necessary that you worry about this one." Harry turned to wait outside, disappointed. He would have to approach Slughorn later. In Slughorn's office another voice began to protest and Harry stopped.

"But professor, you know how important it is that I keep my grades up." Harry turned around to face the door disbelievingly. The voice was smooth and charming and Harry laughed to himself. He highly doubted Tom had ever been in any danger of letting his grades slip. What on earth was he doing?

" Tom really, what a perfectionist." Professor Slughorn chuckled indulgently. Harry had the sudden image of Slughorn heavy handedly patting Tom on the shoulder. As though he could see through walls he watched Tom smile back modestly.

"Nothing you have to say, professor is unnecessary. You don't have to be a perfectionist to think so," came Tom's voice quietly. Once again it was eerie how convincing his lies were, preying on Slughorn's ego.

"Oh Tom, you'll go places you know." Slughorn chortled, "Go on know, you should be outside when the rest of your class gets here." Harry heard a chair slide back and footsteps approaching. Harry wrenched himself away from the door prepared to run back when Tom spoke again.

" Oh professor, may I ask you a favor?" Harry stopped,, sure he ought to go back outside but knowing that Tom was likely about to give away the real reason for his visit. Harry turned prepared to sprint when an idea hit him. It was simple and risky, yet what better way to cover up his eavesdropping. "Yes Tom?"

Harry reached out and knocked on the door three times.

The voices halted as he knocked on the door. Harry heard the footsteps and a draft tousled his hair as the door was opened.. Slughorn stood blocking the majority of the doorway and upon recognizing Harry's face began to grin. He opened the door wider and said loudly, " Harry! how good to see you, come in, come in now."

Harry was thankful for the loud and dominant welcome and stepped inside." Tom's look of surprise was immediately replaced by a clam but searching one. So calm it was almost as though he had been expecting him to show up. In fact it made sense. Tom might have come down to be in professor Slughorn's office so that when Harry came, he would be there to stop him form discovering anything. Harry hadn't been very clever the night before in hiding his curiosity. Professor Slughorn had turned and was shuffling around behind his desk, past the fezzes, shelves of potions and various tacky ornaments and knickknacks. His office reminded Harry of a somewhat careless version of Dumbledore's modern headmaster office.

" What was it you wanted Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath praying his luck would carry. "Oh it's nothing really, I just figured as I've been here a week now I might come in an ask how I am keeping up."

He tried his hardest not to wince and to his great surprise professor Slughorn nodded appreciatively and smiled widely.

"Now Harry," Professor Slughorn wagged his finger in his direction, "you are one of my better students." Harry smiled wearily and was surprised to find that Slughorn was biting his lip and looking apparently overwhelmed. He looked to Tom and then to Harry. "You two boys! You are the only students who have approached me about actual schoolwork since the incident with that snake!"

Tom smirked moving fluidly to Harry's side, "I'm sure if Harry has any trouble with school work he will come to me."

Harry grinned as openly as he could " Of course I would." He and Tom exchanged looks mirthless gratitude. He took the moment to ask nonchalantly. " So, people have been asking you about what happened that night?"

Professor Slughorn nodded solemnly. "Of course, disturbing thing like that, and it was such a beautiful snake. Cost me more than I care to admit."

Tom shook his head. " I just don't understand who would do such a thing."

Harry followed suit by signing, "You don't have any idea who might have done it?"

Slughorn shook his head." I was at dinner when it happened and then Lestrange asked me to walk with him early, he wanted to talk to me about something." Harry saw Tom's eyes flicker curiously. "I only heard when you did what had happened. A break in, in my very own office."

Tom stroked the desk before him, "Quite an invasion of your personal pace professor, I wonder, what time did you come back from dinner?" Tom had that same controlled look he seemed to exhibit when he wanted ton know something rather badly. Harry wondered what this news about Lestrange could possibly mean to him.

Professor Slughorn opened his wobbly mouth to respond when there was a crashing sound that wrung through the room next door, vibrating through the stone walls. Harry jumped, Slughorn rose to his feet and opened the door. He stuck his head out and immediately began to yell at a student who had come early and had misplaced their cauldron, causing it to collide with the hard cold floor.

Harry leaned toward Tom and without wasting a minute began to whisper. " What was that?"

Tom stared at him, " A student I would imagine."

"No, that bit about Slughorn and Lestrange, did it mean something to you?" The irony that he was now working with Tom to discover secrets was not lost on him.

Tom shrugged, " I don't see a way to get him to tell us anything right know. There isn't enough time."

Frustrated Harry looked about the room to watch Slughorn when a bottle caught his eye. The idea was ludicrous, foolish even.

"What if we could find out today?"

Tom scoffed, "Slughorn has a way of forcing you to find the perfect moment."

"Then lets make one." Harry still hadn't torn his eyes off the wall.

Tom was watching him now perplexed and somewhat skeptical, "How?"

"I've just had a very bad idea."

Harry was staring at the bookshelf in front of him. Tom followed his focused gaze toward the shelf. The front row was filled with red and clear potions. There was a tag in faded and lovely manuscript.

_Amorentia_

_Love Potion _

Tom snorted, "That is a bad idea Harry." Even as Harry watched he felt Tom's eyes slip from his face to the half finished cup of coffee on Slughorn' desk, unprotected and almost blatantly calling to them and watched him a small half jeering smirk form.

Slughorn had left the office to help tidy the mess in his classroom. "Why?" Harry asked, unable to count how many reasons the idea was terrible.

Tom was staring at the cup, "It's reckless."

It was but Harry was filled with an impatience to make ground, to begin discovering. He had already been trapped in a time that wasn't his own for nearly a week and who knew how long it would take to discover what the meant intended for him to find if he didn't start taking risks/ ""He would never know if we only put in a little."

Tom's face was unfathomable as he looked back toward the shelf. "We use your hair."

Harry felt his stomach flip.

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Ok so a little disturbing maybe but I figure I may as well start adding some fun to these next few chapters because pretty soon this story is going to the dark side. J Next chapter up by Wednesday. As always I love to read your reviews!


	9. Harry's confused and clear

Oh as always the chapter is later than I first intended. I'm such a lazy jerk! Here it is in full. Hopefully it's starting to heat up!

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Harry remained motionless, Slughorn's half faded voice just outside the door searing him before he leapt forward noiselessly to grab the bottle. Tom took it and used his wand to pull the cork out of the glass neck. Harry bit his lip as Tom swirled the potion twice as though to activate it. He smirked nastily and looked up at Harry, passing him the bottle. Harry took it aware that they possibly only had seconds before Slughorn's head might reappear in the doorway again. He held the potion doubtfully, unsure of what he was supposed to do. "What am I doing?"

Tom gave him strange look, perhaps feeling that Harry was not the best person to come up with plans. "It only needs a piece of the person that Slughorn is going to fall in love with." He gave the potion a decisive look. "Otherwise it would make Slughorn fall in love with whoever he sees first and we couldn't have that.."

Harry plucked a hair from his head begrudgingly, trying not to wince as the hair broke way with his scalp, thinking of the polyjuice potion in his second year. The moment his hair touched the potion it turned an opaque opal white. Slughorn's voice, nearer now then it was before filtered in through the doorway "Just a few seconds then Lazard,"

Tom had taken the completed bottle from his hands with a kind of stealth usually reserved for animals of prey and had dropped just splash from the neck of the bottle into Slughorn's waiting coffee mug. The surface of the coffee trembled as though nothing more than a light wind had disturbed it and Harry was suddenly painfully aware that they were about to have their potions professor acting a little bit less then professional. The things he would do to out-do Tom.

Professor Slughorn made a racket returning and as though he had walked through some great cloud of dust began to cough and pant. Harry noticed that though Tom was looking concerned his wand was pointing at professor Slughorn at such a hidden angle it was only by luck Harry had seen it, held low and hidden by the desk. For one wild moment Harry almost relaxed, thinking that even if they were caught, Tom would probably be able to get them out of it.

At the moment though Tom was busy looking disturbed and worried. He spoke carefully, and sympathetically. " Professor, are you ok? Here," Tom peeked into the cup on his desk, "drink something."

Slughorn made a vain attempt to clear his throat., coughing roughly. Slughorn seized the glass, his wide face red as he drank and drank. Harry winced, resigning himself to the horrible drama of the situation as Slughorn stopped his drinking abruptly and lifted his eyes to meet Harry's, a look of confusion mixed with excitement.

A huge smile crept across his face. He opened his mouth and whispered mistily. "Harry-"

Harry back yup into Slughorn's desk, suddenly feeling as though this had a been a terrible idea.. Even Tom looked slightly bothered. " Hi" Harry answered weakly.

"My goodness what are you doing standing around here!" Slughorn shouted. " You should come with me to my office and we'll do lunch."

Harry looked around concernedly. "But Professor, this is your office."

Slughorn looked taken back. " So it is." A look of confusion crossed his face but it gave way to that same soppy smile again, "You're a clever lad my dear boy!"

Harry shivered, feeling nervous and slightly nauseas. What had made him think this was a good idea again? He should have been patient but the damage it seemed, was already done and he needed to make the best of it.

Harry moved a little closer, aware of the look of smugness that pierced Tom features. Not sure how to work out the question and sure that Slughorn would tell him nearly anything he wanted Harry threw caution to the winds. "Professor, Did you have dinner with Lestrange?"

Slughorn stared at him for a moment. Then a look of pure terror fell across his face like a shadow. " It was strictly professional." Slughorn was gripping the coffee cup and blubbering, "Oh Harry it was nothing, I swear!"

Out of the corner of his eye Harry could just make out Tom's features, which though placid had the strange and unpleasant air of a dark reflection in a mirror. The kind that made your doubt the intention of your own features. They should have used Tom's hair. Perhaps he would have known what to say.

"Er, yes of course it was professor." Harry cast about for words, "What did you talk about?"

"Oh nothing at all, nothing! I think he was lonely is all, I can't blame him, he doesn't have many friends. "

Harry almost laughed. Harry knew Slytherins. No matter how lonely and sad Lestrange had been that he had went with professor Slughorn with a hidden motive.

"Err, did he ask you to go with him right before dinner?"

Slughorn who was busy studying Harry's face as though entranced looked up a little surprised, " Yes, I suppose he did." Slughorn thought for a moment. "He said that he had gotten into some sort of-"

But what it was Lestrange had gotten into Harry didn't have a chance to hear. Slughorn had frozen mid sentence and Tom was standing. It looked as though he had been stunned, though Harry had not seen a red light. Tom moved closer until he was directly in front of Slughorn and began to move his wand in small complex circles in front of Slughorn's unfixed eyes. Harry watched as thin ribbons of familiar looking colorful material curled around his wand like light. Tom looked very focused and Harry wondered if he was attempting to find something in the colored solid haze. Suddenly Harry realized what the entwining substance was. He had seen in once before in the department of mysteries were it had been attached to brains that Ron had accidentally summoned. They were memories. Harry watched, shocked. What Tom was doing was not only dangerous, but If he got caught he would be expelled. Just as Harry was about to say something Tom pulled away and apparently out of Slughorn's head, once the memories were off his wand, he seemed to push them back in with a spell that Harry couldn't see.

He turned around and Harry noticed that there was something of a triumphant gleam in his eyes which were now fixed on Harry. For one moment Harry had the horrible sensation that Tom was attempting to decide whether or not to wipe his memory. Harry watched his wand move a little before relaxing, apparently deciding that he was not a threat. Harry sighed in relief. He was about to ask what Tom had just done when the bell rang. Professor Slughorn awoke with a start, looking around wide eyed, "What?"

Tom's look had turned from cold to sympathetic in an instant. " You fell asleep professor. We were about to wake you."

Slughorn bolted upright and he pawed at his hair apparently perplexed before shaking himself. "Too much late night grading of papers for me I suppose boys!"

Harry grinned as Tom smiled. It was amazing really, Harry thought as he slowly realized that they were get away with it. They were not, as he had feared only moments before about to be expelled. They were going to walk out of the office suspected of nothing but good work habits.

Even as they exited the office he felt his irregular breathing and decided to use it as a reminder to exercise more stealth. He took a seat at a table and tried not to look as keyed up as he felt. He felt his eyes stray to Tom at the table in front of his copying down their potions instructions and he felt a weird kind of confusion.

What was it Tom had just done to Slughorn? Whatever it was, it was probably dark advanced magic. The kind he had always been taught to avoid and had always felt a sort of loathing for. Sitting there however, Harry felt a doubt pass over him. Was it so bad if her was using this sort of magic if he was using it to end a piece of evil. Dumbledore had always made it sound so black and white. Bad was bad, and good was good. For the first time in his life Harry felt himself divided. With a shock, Harry realized that for the first time he was questioning Dumbledore. He had always felt that keeping Sirius cooped up had been wrong, it had been one of Dumbledore's first mistakes in Harry's eyes. But what if he had been wrong, not about Tom, which he wasn't, but about the world. Something Voldemort had said to him in his first year came back to him. _There is no good and evil, only power and those to weak to seize it. _Harry's eyes traveled back to Tom as he cut up newt tails and he felt sick

He walked to lunch several classes later expressing his feelings of displeasure every time he kicked at the floor which was every few paces. The sunlight streaming through the windows had a crisp autumn feel to it and he wondered, if he could just escape to the grounds whether he wouldn't feel better. More calm. As though there was no mercy for the weary, Malfoy broke off from a group as he passed them and made to catch up with him. "Harry."

"What?" Harry grumbled casting him less than a glance.

"Manners, Potter." Grodisius leered.

Almost as a reaction Harry had his wand in his hand. Malfoy looked down at his wand lazily and laughed. "What? Are you going to curse me?"

Harry began to walk faster. "Stick around and we'll see."

Malfoy gave him scathing, withering look. " You wont curse me, Potter, I'm in your house."

Harry was smiling now. "That really won't stop me Malfoy."

Grodisius's calm look now had a bothered edge to it and he responded sneeringly, "Attacking a Malfoy during your first week at school. It's bad form Potter."

Harry sighed and put his wand away. "You say that like it means something."

For a moment Malfoy looked as though he had hit him. "Where did you grow up Potter? Under a rock surely." His pale face had narrowed. "My family owns your society Potter" he finished sneered coldly. " What does you family do for a living, I assume they have jobs?"

Harry ignored the last comment, unsure how to answer it. "Do any of your family members even have ministry jobs, or do they just move money around all day?"

Malfoy looked suddenly triumphant and detached again. "That's all they _have _to do Potter. Every one in the ministry is a friend of the Malfoy's."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"My father's even old friends with the official record keeper." He sounded as though the matter was final.

Harry smiled. " Wow, you have good friend who's a librarian, that sure changes everything Malfoy."

Malfoy turned pink, " A record keeper not a librarian, Potter."

"My mistake."

Malfoy looked down his nose at him, flushed with the apparent knowledge that he knew more about something than Harry. " It is very import Potter. The record keeper has files on everything."

"Like what?" Harry asked, slightly surprised.

Malfoy sauntered haughtily, "Well everything. He has the official roster on Hogwarts students. Everyone who will ever be accepted. Wonder what he would have to say about you?"

Suddenly feeling that he ought to defuse the tension Harry nodded, " Ok fine, that is impressive." Harry didn't like to fathom all of the things the this record keeper must have pages on. Nor did he like to think of how he might appear on it.

Malfoy, whom he had expected to look pleased had frozen however. They had reached the great hall and people were streaming about them. Harry wondered if Malfoy was talking about things he ought to be keeping private. The greasy boy Harry knew to be Lestrange was made a beckoning motion to Malfoy who looked back at Harry, raised his eyebrows menacingly and set off across the hall.

Halfway through Harry's chicken he felt his chewing slow. That night Harry had seen Tom and Malfoy together in the hallway. Tom had been talking about how he wanted Malfoy to get something from someone he knew. Harry thought about how nervous Malfoy had looked when he had realized what he was talking about in the great hall surrounded by hundreds of sets of ears. What if they had been talking about this record keeper? What if Tom had thought his sudden arrival strange? Had found Harry to be much like himself? Had been worried by it? If Tom managed to get his hands on a set of these, probably most protected records surely they would sure that Harry Potter was not due yet. But Malfoy was supposed to have already gotten this information to Tom and had been unable to do so. Harry thought of how Draco used to talk so much bigger than he actually was and felt himself relax. Certainly something of such a protected and official nature would be unreachable by the sixteen year old Malfoy?

Because Tom didn't know. If he did he would have wiped Harry's memory in Slughorn's office. He was sure of it. Still there was a feeling in the pit of Harry's stomach that was very like panic.

Harry spent the rest of the day in the library, flipping through books about every subject the library seemed to have. He was searching for hints about an heir of Gryffindor but he found, by the time the library was closing he was really searching for hints on how to stay alive. Time change was a theme that seemed to sneak into his reading and a dangerous give away, he realized every time he forced himself to close a book he would not be able to explain. He checked out books on wizarding lore and genealogy, about Hogwarts and houses and retired to the common room.

He spent hours in a chair by the fire flipping through pages of complex reading he knew Hermione might have been able to condense and explain to him in minutes. By the time he reached a page on complex magical formulas he shut the book feeling frustrated. Harry looked up and scanned the common room. Tom was sitting in a chair. There was another smarter human who might have been able to explain things to him but Harry was forced to stay one step ahead of him. It seemed that this time he would have to solve the mystery without help. As the fire died Harry knew that it was not in books that he had place his faith but in himself. This quest had been meant for him. And he was going to have to find some way of doing it on his own terms.

Over the next few days he returned the books to the library as they had put him no closer to any sort of mystery discovery. What they had done, was raise his grades and transfiguration markedly and so Harry handed them over feeling perhaps he research had not been entirely wasted.

On Thursday night he sat in the common room, as he had every night for a week reading a big, complicated book that was actually assigned to one of his classes and which he had largely neglected. It was in a language Harry was not sure was English. It had the Germanic alphabet however and he was attempting to translate muttering softly to himself. He almost did not notice Tom's approach.

Harry felt his heart leap as he noticed him scanning the table before Harry. "Have you seen my quill?"

"What?" Harry asked distractedly. "Er, no."

Tom looked at him, "Are you alright?"

Harry ran his hands through his hair, "Fine just stressed," Harry stated quickly bending back over his book, trying to ignore him, hoping he would leave him to his last minute studying.

"When was the last time you slept?" Tom asked, his keen eyes clearing observing all Harry was trying to hide.

Harry looked up despite himself. "Huh?"

" Sleep Harry, you need it."

Harry sighed and stared down at the book. "What language is this is?" Tom bent over his shoulder.

"Russian."

Harry frowned. "Then why isn't this translating?"

Tom's eyes remained on Harry's face "That's a runic dictionary."

Harry shut the book thinking feeling somehow worse. But long after Tom had left Harry continued to sit there staring at the flickering flames feeling that he knew what he was going to have to do to discover his secret. He had known all along really. Because he didn't have Hermione's book smarts or Tom's observant cleverness. What he did have was a huge advantage. He knew the future and he was trapped in the shadow of a time that could never really exist with him in it. By the time Harry went to bed that night he knew what he was going to have to do and hated himself for it. If he wanted secrets he needed to get things moving. He needed Tom to discover the chamber of secrets and there was no one else in the world better to help him do it than himself.

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And so it begins. Pretty soon Harry will have to integrate into his new Slytherin society so don't worry. These chapters of resistance are coming to a close. The plot will be moving faster soon I just really wanted Harry's acclimation to feel real! As always I love to hear what you all have to say!


	10. Weasley Problems

Hi all, another chapter up. This one took a little while to complete. I had a dollop of writers block, a complete lack of time, and all sorts of other distractions forces working on me. You guys know how it is. I still am not sure how long this story is going to be. But I have planned much of it out. I know what I want to happen, I'm just not sure how it's all going to find its way together. So please keep on sending those reviews, they are really helpful, and give me inspiration.. It helps me figure out how I want things sometimes, the mood, the characters, emotions in general. Hopefully more updates will be coming soon. I have a weekend off and I'm feeling wordy!

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Harry awoke the next morning feeling tense, yet somehow freed. Free of some weight he had been carrying with him for as long as he could remember. Something was missing, the heavy weight he had been bearing on his chest since he had fallen through the map was gone, replaced by a burning desire to survive.

Having finally made the decision to start steering Tom toward the chamber of secrets had somehow freed him. Because really, why not? He would find it anyway. Harry couldn't change history. If this was what it took to get him home, repulsive as it was he was going to do it. He was no longer Harry Potter the hero, the boy everybody stared at in the hallway. The girls were not mesmerized, Dumbledore didn't call him to his office, or smile at him over dinner. No, his former life seemed to be slipping away and with it he was gaining strength to do what it might take to return to it. In fact, Harry reflected strangely, the only person who seemed to think he was special at all was Tom. He rose, dressed and walked to breakfast that morning with an air of confidence that had nothing to do with being the boy who lived, but the boy who was determined to survive.

The great hall was full as always and bustling students. The sky overhead was a clam sort of gray and a thing mist was falling outside the windows. He walked past a group of girls who were huddled at the Ravenclaw table, staring and pointing. As he walked past they gave way to a fresh wave of giggles and turned.

Harry realized that Tom who was sitting near the end of the Slytherin table across from Grodisius seemed to be the subject of their conversation. Harry made his way over to them smirking slightly. Upon his arrival Grodisius straightened up and Harry realized that there was something faintly anxious about his face.

"Looks like you have a fan club over there." Harry mentioned lightly, smiling and jabbing his hand in the direction of the Ravenclaw table.

Malfoy sneered. "He does. At least they stay over there now. They tried sitting at the Slytherin table last year and McCormick cursed one of them."

Harry grinned. From what he had gathered McCormick was a nasty fourth year with an explosive temper. Harry had done his best to stay clear of him, but he had accidentally run into him the hallway only days ago leaving the library in an daze and had been forced to duck several curses.

Grodisius seemed to follow his thinking because his lip had curled despite the nasty half smile he still wore, "The brute."

Harry poured himself coffee, aware as he did so that the air between Malfoy and Tom was palpably tense. Feeling perhaps that this meant Malfoy had been unable to hand any Hogwarts records over to Tom he felt his mood lift even higher.

Tom was gazing at him over the breakfast food, perhaps curious about Harry's changed mood. Harry let his eyes travel onto his and the second they met Toms cold blue ones he knew it had been a mistake. He felt a jolt and his scar felt suddenly raw. It was the same as it had been in Harry's fifth year staring the long dark tunnels of Snape's eyes. That sense of being x-rayed. Suddenly afraid Harry tried very hard not to think of Snape at all, tried not to remember how he had pushed back into Snape's memories of his parents. He knew he could not match that kind of mental power with Tom, so he did his best to think of nothing at all, focusing only on the hard deep blue of Tom eyes fighting occlumency with mental emptiness. All at once the feeling stopped and all pressure in his scar disappeared. Tom looked remotely curious, and he turned back to his French toast.

Fighting every instinct to jump from the table and flee to the library as he had been doing, he willed himself to stay, to keep his head in the game. He rearranged his utensils, and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. Willing away that cold feeling of dread in his stomach he let himself feel a wave of pride. He had for the first time, thrown off an attempt at occlumency with his mind.

He walked with Malfoy and Tom to History of Magic feeling somehow empowered but even his success could not keep him from fading under professor Binn's lecture. His eyes were heavy and the ticking of the clock became second to his own heartbeat. He was certain he was nearly half asleep when something seemed to rouse him, as though his own thoughts had somehow become aware of the room. Next to him, Malfoy was sitting with his eyes half closed and his pointed face slouched. It was Tom he found himself staring at and without warning he felt his scar for the second time that morning burn, this time stronger and less able to be hidden. He clutched the side of the desk and waited for the pain to fade but even when it did Harry could not shake that sense of vaguely connected electricity. Never had he ever been so happy to escape to the grounds for his care of magical creatures class.

Professor Kettleburn was already waiting for them, pacing about energetically in his coveralls and smiling manically, a smile that was made all the more worrisome by the lack of two of his front teeth.

"Hello all!" He called exuberantly as the class that was still walking down the grounds to him drew close. As he drew closer, Harry was able to see that his foot was resting on the surface of a large wooden box. As though remembering the Skrewts Harry fell back, unwilling to stand in the first line of fire.

"Today is all about fire crabs!" he called out, mustache shivering.

Beside him Harry felt Malfoy stiffen. There were mutinous mutterings in Slytherin colors all around him however one or two Gryffindors had edged forward curiously. Harry had to suppress his urge to roll his eyes. Certainly tackling fire crabs did not sound fun, but still, on these grounds he had experienced much worse.

Even as professor Kettleburn spoke Harry watched the box under his foot growl and rattle violently. The curious Gryffindors backed up quickly and when Kettleburn told them they were to polish and clean the baby crabs Malfoy scoffed audibly. Kettleburn seemed to take this movement for excitement and smiling coyly, began to partner them up.

"Lestrange with Longbottom."

Lestrange sneeringly broke off from their group Malfoy whispering to him sourly as he did so "Might try using the blood traitor as a shield, Lestrange." Harry turned to look at him as he said it.

"Malfoy with Jacobs," Malfoy sauntered off with another Slytherin looking pleased.

"Potter with Weasley."

Harry had been afraid of this. Weasley, that nasty boy he had met in the library was nothing like the pack of Weasley's he had called friends. With a nasty lurch Harry watched Allen Weasley as he looked at his friend scowling, and began to mime what Harry could only guess was his impression of him standing, with his arm crossed, looking surly. It would have been a good impression if Allen hadn't seemed to think that he, Harry had large front teeth and walked with a hunch. So he had big teeth did he? Harry studied Allen's too short robes and shabby bag in a way that made him want to laugh meanly and feel sick at the same time.

Harry crossed the lawn to Allen when his friend had moved away, thinking to avoid a fight. Allen returned and tossed their crab on the ground rather unkindly, throwing Harry a rag as he did so. "Right, so get to cleaning then, if you think your nails can handle it,"

Harry stood there, offended watching Weasley try to corner the gleaming crab with his foot. Surely Weasley didn't expect him to do it all himself? "Why don't you do it?" Harry asked snippily, trying to sound less annoyed than he was, "You look like you have some experience cleaning things."

Allen gave him a look of red faced disgust before intentionally dropping the can of polish onto Harry shoes with a wet splatter.

Harry looked down at his shoes calmly, willing himself not to curse him even if he _was _alittle ginger faced wanker_. _Instead he cleared his throat and stood a little taller. Using his wand he easily returned the polish back to the can, and said more coldly then he had expected. "Clumsy?

Allen smiled stupidly and Harry was reminded of the way he had sometimes felt about Ron during a fight, "Nah, not really."

As Harry watched Allen began to scrub the crab hard. So hard that it was making an attempt on its strange legs to escape him. Perhaps to stop him from brutalizing the thing or perhaps because it felt so good to have someone to yell at or because he had a reputation he needed to build and he knew just how to get under Allen's skin Harry heard himself open his mouth and say something he had never pictured himself saying. " If you scrub a little faster Weasley I might just give you a nice Galleon."

Allen froze and Harry felt his own face show some of the shock he felt himself. Harry could feel the eyes of the Slytherins around him and found he just couldn't stop. "I'll have to toss it to you of course, I wouldn't want to have to-"

But Harry was unable to finish this sentence, the crab that Allen had been scrubbing so powerfully had let out a tiny lizard like sound and blasted off. Allen jumped backward, the hem of his robes on fire. Harry lifted his wand to put them out but found he had trouble doing this because he was laughing triumphantly. Allen dropped and attempted to roll them out and it was only when Harry heard Malfoy laughing that he found the strength the regain control. "Stop rolling and I'll put them out," Harry muttered, having no real desire to sit and watch Ron's look alike burn.

Extinguished and red Weasley sat on the ground smoldering and looking livid. "That was a mistake Potter!"

Harry felt a kind of adrenaline pushing through him, all the stress of the last two weeks finally finding an outlet. "There's need for that," Harry shot nastily, "In case you didn't notice I just put you out."

Allen didn't seem to have noticed this though and did not look as though he was joking around. Even as he stood he was clutching his wand angrily and shaking.

"You are going to feel this one Potter, You shouldn't have messed with me."

If it weren't for the look of passionate dislike on his face, might have grinned, "Look Weasley, if you don't want to get hurt, than maybe we should just get polishing the fire crab." Harry looked around and under his feet suspecting it had scurried away when Allen had been flopping around ablaze.

"What," Allen muttered, "are you afraid, never dueled a real wizard before?"

Harry remembered the red of Voldemort's eyes. Remembered Cedric's death. Remembered Sirius falling through the veil. Standing alone in a graveyard sure that death was only seconds away, on the wings of the same green light that had extinguished his parents lives. Harry tightened his grip on his wand feeling a kind of anger within him he hadn't felt in months. The smile had dropped from his face entirely. "It's your scrawny neck, Weasley."

Unwatched by Professor Kettleburn half of the students around them were staring. At the edge of the crowd Harry could just see Malfoy's gleeful face, flushed and unkind. It was not just the Slytherins who had noticed them however.

"What's going on?" Allen's friend had just joined him, along with a bored look yet handsome boy. Both of them were looking from Allen to Harry and lingering perhaps on the faint curls of smoke still coming from Allen's robes. The rather less handsome one reached forward and pulled on his arm, "Come on mate, you don't want this." Allen tried to through his friend of his arm, glaring at Harry over his shoulder.

"Listen to your friend." Harry said quietly, he really didn't want to fight him. In fact the more ruthless Allen became, the more Harry wished he hadn't bothered him at all in the first place.

" I'll listen if I want to!" Allen yelled looking torn, wanting perhaps to back down but not wanted to seem as though he was afraid to fight.

Harry made a movement to back away but Allen seemed to mistake it for an attack. "Reducto!"

Harry barely had time to think before he thought _Protego_, and the spell bounced of and flew back at Allen who ducked. Over the woops of the Slytherins Harry heard professor Kettleburn. Turning to watch him approach Harry was surprised to see that Tom was holding his wand carefully and Harry realized in that split second that if he had missed Allen's curse, Tom probably wouldn't have.

"Wands down Boys!" he yelled, looking worried. Harry lowered his, and Allen let his fall just a inch lower, to show that he wouldn't attack. "Stop this nonsense! Back to work."

Harry watched Allen as he turned and walked away with his friends. Harry watched him go before sighing as he resumed his search for the fire crab.

That night Harry left dinner earlier and retreated to the library, not to hide but to plan. Now that he had come to a decision he was faced with the tremendous task of leading Tom to the Chamber of Secrets without Tom being aware that he had had a hand in it.

For the first time Harry really appreciated what it must have been like for the fake Moody when he had been forced to lead Harry through the tournament in his fourth year.

The truth was that Tom was much smarter than he had been then and he didn't have the advantage of polyjuice potion. Only to add fuel to the fire Harry, realized as he sat in the stacks, he was faced with the prospect of trying to lure Tom into what was at its most basic, a second story girls bathroom. Harry stared out the window allowing his thoughts to churn.

Perhaps the only real advantage he had was that Tom was a prefect. Surely it was his job to patrol corridors and root out trouble even if that trouble seemed to be coming from a girls toilet? Maybe the solution was as simple as setting a distraction and bringing Tom's notice to the area. Surely even one look at the snake on the tap would be enough.

Standing Harry decided to pursue this idea fully and before he knew it was on his way to the second story, fully intent on having a look around, not entirely sure how much it would help but feeling it was right all the same. By the time he rounded the corner to the second floor corridor it was deserted. He stole along the passage till he was standing outside the door to the bathroom. He thought for a minute about going inside but then it occurred to him. This was not Moaning Myrtles deserted bathroom. In fact in 1949 it was surely recently renovated and very active, not being haunted as it were by the ghost a weeping teenage girl. If he were to attempt to go inside during the day it was more than likely he would be ambushed by a hoard of offended girls. This might pose a problem for him.

Harry paused for a moment. What were the odds, that the students were all still at dinner? If the empty halls were any kind of a clue he thought that perhaps luck might be on his side. Harry opened the door a crack. There was no sound but the steady dripping of water from a tap. He opened the door and hurriedly stepped toward the row of sinks. He bent down ever so slightly to examine them. There, so obvious, yet so well hidden was the tiny etched serpent.

Harry was still bent over examining the sink when he heard footsteps behind him on the stone. Filled with dread Harry turned around and saw that the bathroom door was open. Harry without a moment to lose ducked down and threw himself against the wall. Who ever was walking down the hall doing it slowly. Harry heard the scuff of shoes and muttering, "Such a prat."

For a moment Harry pressed himself harder yet against the wall. The boy spoke again and Harry thought he knew who it was.

"He'll see."

Harry felt a smile cross his face. No...surely not.

"I'll kick his ass."

Harry tried hard not to laugh.

"He'll be so terrified, I'll be like a sodding king!"

Harry could stand it no longer, standing up and letting out a bark of a laugh he leaned in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, is it king Allen now?"

Allen jumped, a horrified look on his face, "_Potter!"_ Harry scoffed watching him fight his own embarrassment.

"You shouldn't walk about talking to yourself like that Weasley, people will start to think you might be a nutter."

Still short of words, Allen's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing there, in a _girls _bathroom!"

" Oh, this?" Harry looked behind him at the sad green tile and dripping faucets, "I hang around here _all_ the time." As though on key the stall with the hanging door creaked sadly.

Allen had pulled out his wand. "You were watching me!" he yelled his face threatening deep purple.

Harry snorted. " Oh yeah, because I have nothing better to do."

Allen looked scandalized, trying to sort out whether or not Harry had been dogging him. Apparently the effort had cost him the last of his tolerance because he was clutching his wand so tightly his fingers were white. "I hate people like you Potter."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "What? Smart, interesting, level headed..."

"Bigoted."

"Bigoted." Harry repeated unimpressed. He was the least bigoted person he knew. Malfoy undoubtedly, but him? Allen was the pure blood. Perhaps he was confused. Harry was about to say something about this but he though for a second that he heard footsteps coming from down the hall. Allen it seemed had not and had seized the opportunity of Harry's distraction.

"Stupify!"

Maybe it was the years of practice but Harry somehow managed to duck in time to miss the red jet of light.

"Pertrifcus Totalus!" Harry yelled not even aware of what direction he was pointing in.

"Cru-"

"Accio wand!"

Allen's wand had flown from his hand before he could finish his curse and been caught by someone else feet away. Harry looked up stunned, expecting a teacher. Surely Allen had not been about to use the cruciatus curse on him?

Much to his surprise it was Tom stalking down the hallway toward them looking hard faced.

"That was pretty stupid." Harry spat at Allen as he looked down at his own wandless hands furiously.

Harry felt his eyes widen with surprise as Allen stood up, for the second time that day shamed and useless having decided that even though he didn't have a wand, he could still hurt Harry. Harry barely had time to brace himself before Allen charged into him, sending them both sprawling, colliding with the hard stone floor. Harry hadn't taken care to tighten his grip on his wand and he heard it clatter on the floor and fly a foot a way from him. He was left with no choice but to cover his face from Allen's wild irrational blows.

"Arg!"

Harry grimaced but before the first blow could fall a cold voice cut across Allen's ragged breathing. " _Stupify_."

The tone was so powerful and had such finality about it that Harry actually relaxed before he opened his eyes, blinking he could see that Allen had been knocked off of him by the force of the spell.

Harry struggled about for his wand. Tom extended a hand and Harry took it, wincing as he adjusted his weight. From a distance Harry could hear students coming, like thunder on a horizon. Tom turned back to Allen stiffly. "_Renovate_." Allen opened his eyes. Tom surveyed him quietly and cruelly. "He's right Weasley, that was stupid."

Panic was blossoming in Allen's eyes. "You- you're not allowed to do magic in the corridors either prefect or not!"

Tom smiled flatly. "Obliviate." Allen's eyes swam in and out of focus and he slumped. "Walk back to your dormitory." Tom instructed Allen and turned his back on him. Harry struggled to put weight on his ankle and followed him silently. One they had turned the corner Tom seemed to notice that Harry was wincing, he stopped and muttered, "Sunctante." Harry felt the numb throbbing cede into a dull ache.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, feeling slightly ashamed at having been taken so fully by the struggling Gryffindor and in all that struggle Tom had failed to see the sink.

Tom smiled softly and continued onward.

The Slytherin common room was busy when they returned. Near the fire a group of students had become embroiled in what appeared to be a very violent game of gobbstones over which Lestrange seemed to be the prevailing victor. From where he sat at his homework Harry began to notice that try as other students might, Lestrange came out of each game the grinning, Cheshire faced winner. Even Hermione, he thought to himself, who detested all forms of cheating would have been impressed.

Casually Harry glanced at Tom who was bent over his essay writing very fast, his words perfectly spaced.

"Hey Tom."

"What?"

"How is Lestrange winning that game?" Harry asked, his attention back on Lestrange who was grinning as he scooped up a pocket full of galleons. Tom looked up, interested.

"The Gobbstones." Harry nodded in his direction.

Tom watched for a moment "A felixius charm?" Harry watched this as a fifth year girl placed a bet.

Harry watched the group cheer and boo, Tom by his side and the fire glowing low. Tom resumed his writing and Harry dreaded sleep. Soft as it was, he could still feel his scar prickling.

o0o0

Comments welcome! I'm on a count down now because as I have indicated before, this story is in for a major plot shift soon. These have mostly been chapter to indicate how Harry has adjusted to his new space. Soon the real happenings will start. I would grin sinisterly if I thought anyone was looking. Updates soon! Hope you enjoyed.


	11. Only Dreaming of Unforgivable Curses

Hey guys, I am so sorry this took so long to update but I'm out of the woods and now it's February break! Which is, as everyone knows a time for eating and sleeping and publishing many, many chapters to your fornication story (also a good time for trying to virally detox your computer but that's another story). On a separate note I have been reading my reviews and there are some key things that must be discussed.

One. I haven't actually fully explained the scenario with Harry's scar and I'm noticing you all seem to be a little skeptical but judgment should be reserved until all is explained. If you decide its still stupid once all is out feel free to make funny faces at your monitor and scorn me!

Two. I know that Tom found the chamber in his fifth year. In my story, it's his sixth year.

I didn't do it on purpose but now that I'm eleven chapters in I'm sort of committed. I am also aware that the year 1949 is not correct either and that Moaning Myrtle is actually a Ravenclaw. That is one of the greatest joys of writing because if I said Hogwarts was on mars, suddenly in my story it would be. I'll try to do my research a little better now that I've decided to turn this story into something long. I'm sorry for any confusion!

There will be three more chapters after this before the story begins to go darker. I also intend to start bringing the assorted Slytherin characters into this story in a more intimate way.

With that said enjoy!

0o0o

Harry awoke to the deep darkness of the Slytherin dorms on Halloween morning disoriented, with his glasses on the ground, bent as though somebody had stepped on them. Cursing what was surely a Malfoy jab as he fixed his glasses Harry began to dress.

The thin mists that had dogged the castle and the surrounding grounds had finally gathered and given way to rain that fell torrentially from clouds as dark and heavy as rotten peaches. No matter where he went some of the storm that was outside seemed to follow him. He walked to his first class after breakfast with Tom, not saying a word.

Tom who seemed to have sensed his the sate of his short temperament remained silent, as though thinking, and this disturbed Harry more than a constant stream of thought would. More and more he was beginning to feel useless.

Potions was dull and Harry had a hard time keeping his eyes open, fighting to keep his cloak wrapped tightly around him. The only sound the permeated this chilled trance like state was the sound of Tom's quill scratching across his parchment. This is itself was only usual and didn't catch his attention until Tom slid the piece of parchment across the desk to Lestrange who took it and pocketed it smiling nastily.

What did grinning thuggish Lestrange know that he didn't? Tom and for that matter Voldemort had never seemed to be the type to over share his plans and Harry had a suspicion that this was largely to keep as many people in the dark as he could. It was harder to be betrayed that way and yet wasn't he more capable than Lestrange? Not as cruel maybe but surely more capable?

Harry barley had time to muse in Transfiguration as Dumbledore had passed out one of his most challenging quizzes yet. Still, Harry felt he had gotten the majority of it correct and passing surly faced Lestrange in the hallway to lunch felt perhaps he had been one of the few. He had even managed to answer the bonus question correctly when he asked the class without hesitation. Cheered somewhat he found that his lunch tasted better and he went to the library with Tom and Grodisius for free period feeling perhaps he ought to be glad it was a holiday.

The library was packed with sixth years whose workloads were exploding rapidly. Harry tried to work diligently but could not help but notice that Malfoy was shooting him nasty glances out of the corner of his eyes. Harry did his best not to return them, thinking of his bent glasses that morning.

Ink flecked his face as Malfoy chucked his quill across the table. "This is ridiculous! It makes no sense." The scrawny boy Terrence Flint was scrubbing his essay where the quill had landed sour faced. Malfoy continued, crimpling up his half written essay, "It's all your fault really Potter, I don't see why you don't just write the essay for me!"

Harry blinked, "How is this my fault?"

"You just had to know the answer to his bonus question, now he thinks we are all little _geniuses_." Harry snorted, distracted. The idea that Malfoy thought he was a genius was almost amusing.

Tom however was watching them, smirking softly, "The rest of us appreciate your trouble with simple Transfiguration Grodisius, it makes us looks so much more impressive."

Harry felt a flush of surprise and something else almost connected with pride though he refused to acknowledge it. Malfoy's wan face flushed and he turned to look in any direction that didn't have on of their faces in it. "What do we have next period?" he muttered in a sullen undertone.

" Unforgivable curses in defense against the dark arts." Flint said coldly, putting his quill back in the middle of the table.

Harry looked up. He had completely forgotten that unforgivable curses were something he was supposed to learn in his sixth year as he had already gone over them so many years ago with the fake professor Moody.

At this, Malfoy seemed to regain some of his righteous swagger. He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. " Why do they even bother waiting till sixth year. Do you know any sixth years who don't know what an unforgivable curse is? My god, I've known for ages."

Harry shook his head and returned to his writing. He had been taught most of what he knew about unforgivable curses by a death eater who had been using the polyjuice potion to look like a teacher, and yet, he had taught him a remarkable amount. If it hadn't been for the fake Moody Harry might never have escaped the graveyard.

Tom meanwhile had the slippery look of someone who was itching to get away from them and Harry did his best to keep him sitting with them as long as possible.

Professor Marvel arrived in time for class looking tired. Haggard even. Was that the way of all of his professor this week or was he imagining things?

"Good day class, as you may know we are about to tackle some difficult topics today, so if you could all open your books to page 288 and try to understand the seriousness of what we will be discussing .

Harry was a little disappointed. Books? He had expected something like Professor Moody's lesson, but that seemed to be a ridiculous idea sitting here in this classroom. The idea that professor Marvel would place them all under the Imperius curse was so funny that Harry had to marvel at professor Dumbledore's gall for hiring Moody in the first place.

Harry flipped to page 288 and began to read, stealing glances at Tom, who was quite expertly pretending to be interested, sure as he was that Tom was more than knowledgeable on the subject. Perversely it seemed, many of his fellow Slytherins seemed to be catching each others glances and grinning. Malfoy especially seemed to have a special glow of superiority about him, fingering the pages of his book languidly and pointedly paying little attention to professor Marvel who seemed to regard unforgivable curses as magic of the highest degree, drawing them formulas that Moody had forgone in favor of hexing them.

Harry sat in the library that night, his head full of thoughts. How was it that so many young Slytherin students seemed to know about dark curses and get away with it? It wasn't as though Harry found the idea of being taught from a young age how to torture someone was a good idea. It was more that, in this world of fast witted magic, it certainly gave someone an upper hand to know how to use illegal magic. After all, it wasn't as though Harry had never broken the law, far from it. It was that he had always used average hexes to do an above average job. How much easier it might be just to use an imperious curse the next time he was faced with saving the world as opposed to a blocking spell.

In the wake of these strange and tangled thoughts Harry realized that he was holding his wand. Of course it went without saying that in order to use an unforgivable curse you had to be a powerful wizard. For someone like Tom this was nothing more than a matter of fact and one that did not affect him but for Harry, would Harry even be strong enough to use an imperious curse? There was a spider on the floor by the legs of the table and Harry felt a lurch of hidden excitement. There it was, an opportunity to test himself. Harry watched the spider move slowly, his wand trained upon it, willing himself not to feel so very guilty for considering it. He had no interest in the cruciatus curse and Avada Kedavra had never seemed like anything more than a weapon designed for the purpose of killing him alone. He thought back for a moment, to that night in the graveyard…when Peter had killed Cedric so easily. Peter of all people!

Harry could hear his blood in his own ears as he muttered, "Imperio."

The effect was far greater and yet far more simple than he had expected. It was as though he were the eye of some great storm. A storm that only moved where he willed it to, a storm from which nothing was safe but himself at its center.

"_Jump" _Harry thought calmly.

The spider jumped much to his enhanced excitement. Harry was about to command the spider further when he heard a noise behind him. Harry turned his head and he felt the thread of magic connecting him to the spider wear thin and break. Harry took a deep breath, no longer sensing the spiders presence under his control. Tom had walked into the library and had walked past him to the restricted section. He drew out a book and sat down across from him. He used his wand to flick the spider aside and he began reading. Harry thought that Tom ignoring him completely was perhaps a bad omen.

"Tom?"

"Harry." His voice was flat, and Harry could tell he didn't want to be interrupted. What was he doing now?

Harry shifted awkwardly, remembering how hard he had worked to keep Tom from leaving their side in the library earlier. "I'm sorry if I was annoying this morning," Harry muttered awkwardly, "I'm sure you had better things to be doing but I can only handle so much Grodisius on my own."

Tom looked at him, suddenly keen and vaguely cold. "What makes you think I wanted to be elsewhere?"

Harry paused, "Well because you sort of looked like if you could have sneaked off you-"

"Sneaking off?" Tom pronounced the words with such disgust that Harry almost recoiled.

Sensing that he had gone about this the wrong way Harry retackled this subject.

"Well, yeah, sneak off." Harry repeated, agitated aware that some of his anger at himself for being so useless at discovering a secret was leaking into his speech "One minute you're right next to me, the next you're off plotting murder or something."

Tom's whole face had altered to a hardness Harry would associate more with his future self.. "What's your point?"

"It's annoying!" Harry spat.

Tom looked stunned. Harry had impression that nobody had told him he was annoying in a long time.

"I'm annoying?" He looked as though he wanted to laugh snidely, "At least I have the decency not to sneak around behind my back questioning my friends and servants."

"Ok, every time that I have done that it's been a mistake, " Harry muttered, feeling a little cornered. "Cronk thought I was you, Malfoy just blurts stuff out, and Lestrange is just nasty and thick Tom."

Harry noticed his eyes blaze when he mentioned Malfoy's name and decided to call him out before the moment slipped away. Perhaps the more honest he was with Tom, the more likely he would be to believe him. "You didn't know about Malfoy did you?" Harry asked, beating himself up.

Tom sneered. "I'm not really surprised. The record keeper I would presume? His half witted way of bragging about himself always is his downfall."

Harry shrugged. "He's better then Lestrange. Smarter at least."

From that moment on the atmosphere between the two of them seemed to lighten. Harry continued his homework, and Tom took some notes out of a book of potions that Harry recognized when he lifted it to get another piece of parchment as the book he Ron and Hermione had used in their second year to make the polyjuice potion.

" What are you making?" Harry asked curiously.

Tom looked up at him, the hardness gone but an elemental spark of something sinister about his eyes. "You're nosey, you know that Harry?"

Harry smiled and turned back to his homework on the curses.

They walked to the Halloween feast talking about Caroline Greenly, a girl who had a vicious crush on Malfoy. Of course Malfoy, who was far to vain for any woman certainly had a sense of pride about the whole ordeal and one they both found to be if not repulsive at least rather hilarious. Harry was beginning to think they had skirted away from any nasty waters when they heard a strange muffled noise from an unused class room. Voices filtered out.

"Why? Why now!"

Tom froze and grabbed Harry sternly by his Hogwarts tie. They both exchanged glances and Harry could tell at once that Tom intended to listen. Harry nodded and they both were still."

"That makes no sense Maleficent!" Came a grumbling mans voice.

"It makes perfect sense, that is how it has to happen!" A woman's, shrill and edgy.

"Then it won't happen."

"I won't pretend."

"Yes you will. I could lose my job!"

"The fat Friar already knows."

Harry was holding his breath when Tom yanked his shirt front and motioned that they go down the hall.

Harry stumbled after him confused. Tom's face was set in a kind of private grin.

They reached the great hall, pausing as the smell of food and candles washed about them.

Harry was immediately uncomfortable with Tom's smile. "What was that about?" he asked.

Tom mused for a moment. " I didn't see that coming."

Harry was panting, and hadn't the slightest idea what they had just heard. "Er, what coming? Who was that?"

Toms grin was nothing short of frightening. " You heard at least one of their names didn't you Harry? Maleficent Marvel."

Harry couldn't help but gawk. " Professor Marvel and who?"

"Augustus Droblit."

Harry couldn't believe it. "The caretaker?"

Tom's cold laugh was his confirmation. Harry could help the laugh he let out himself.

"Who'd have guessed that?"

"Nobody."

Harry frowned. "Couldn't they have found a safer place to talk then the broom cupboard on the third floor?"

Tom sneered. "Marvel is a muggle loving fool, and Augustus is dumb, even for a squib."

Harry shook his head. " I'll never have a curfew again."

Tom grinned indulgently. "Don't breathe even a word to anyone."

Harry nodded, knowing that Tom likely had an idea, and that it was most likely foul and unexpected.

Harry straightened his grin. " I won't say anything."

Tom smirked. "Were are going to be late for the feast."

Harry had nearly forgotten about the feast. The great hall was almost explosive; noise of every kind met them as they made their way toward the Slytherin table. Jack-o-lanterns hung above them, casting a long, eerie light about the hall .A clamor of live bats swarmed near the ceiling that displayed the stars set ablaze for them. Harry sat across from Tom, his stomach growling. The candle light cast over Tom and made his face older. As it always was, Harry was offered only a ghost of the monster the man would grow to be. Oddly though, Harry felt no fear. Not fear of Tom at least but of what he kept hidden. Here in public there was nothing to be worried about. Harry could understand why Ginny had been fooled. Such a soft smile on such a sinister face.

"Well." Tom glanced around, the noise and excitement around them disguising his voice nearly entirely. They were all waiting for professor Dippit to make a speech so that the feast could begin. "The Fat Friar knows."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"The fat Friar." Tom repeated, softly as though thinking. "Augustus said the Fat Friar knew."

Harry thought for a moment, watching professor Dippit on his way to the staff table. "Yeah, he did."

Tom nodded. " Well, the fat Friars loyal to the hilt, he'll never tell us anything on purpose." Harry noticed that for all his pleasantness he still sounded almost spiteful.

"No, he wouldn't, not on purpose." Harry trailed off thinking.

Professor Dippit's speech didn't hold a candle to Dumbledore's and the feast passed in a blur of warmth, seasoned foods, and rich puddings. Harry's thoughts strayed once or twice down deserted corridors but he remained sitting, present, well fed and happy as long as he could.

Harry walked back to his common room, full, and drowsy. Lestrange challenged Malfoy to a game of gobbstones on their way through the portrait hole and Harry noticed Malfoy shrugged him off hostilely. Of course Harry had never seen Lestrange lose. Perhaps his reputation as a winner had been tarnished by the suspicion that it had nothing to do with his talent for the game.

Lestrange spent a little more than ten minutes looking for someone to play before turning toward the cuter seventh year girls. Harry watched him for a while amused despite himself before turning in for bed. Malfoy was already fast asleep and he also saw Nott at the other end of the dormitory.

Harry undressed and got into bed, feeling peaceful and calm. The entire Slytherin house was beginning to grow on him in the way that only someone who had experienced horrors might be able to understand. While it was not the way he might prefer going to sleep it was certainly not the worst thing that had ever happened to him. The last thing he thought of was Tom. Mysteriously uprooted Tom who he had not seen since dinner. He thought of the Fat Friar and everything faded into black.

The next time he blinked he saw that the room around him had changed. It was nighttime, and he was in a wooden room far removed from the cold dark of the dungeons. Moonlight streamed in through the only window, illuminating the walls. Outside he could see tall bushy trees of summertime. He could smell the intoxicating perfume of flowers. Harry looked down and saw that he was wearing his Hogwarts robes with the Slytherin emblem on the chest but that he seemed to stand taller, more alertly. The ground was dusty and Harry suddenly realized that he was standing in an attic. The thick warm air was heavy, yet he felt no fear, only purpose and the certainty of his ability to reach his goal. Harry moved forward guided by this unknown force. Before him was a door and Harry knew this was where he must go. It was old and wooden, painted a dull white like the rest of the room. Harry reached for the door knob without question. It opened far too smoothly, so quietly it was almost surreal. He was standing before a set of long, ornamental stairs that somehow told of old wealth, descending before him. The carpet was a deep red, and it made Harry think of blood as the moonlight flooded it like a pool. Just as he reached the top of the stairs, he felt a jolt, like the static on a muggle VHS. The world lurched and Harry reached out with his hands, flailing, trying to find a hold on reality.

With a thud the world righted itself and he was in his dormitory, his hands sunk into his blankets and his head stinging from where it had just collided with a head board. The alarm clock by his bed told him it was seven in the morning. He took breaths trying to will away the cold that still clung to his skin. He felt entirely un-rested as though he had spent the night out of bed, having traveled across time and country lines. Shivering Harry willed himself to think that this was impossible.

0o0o

Thanks for reading. Ill be getting around to opening the chamber soon. Harry's descent into the darkness will continue but I would like to stress that although he may act his part well he does not truly view himself as a bad guy. He is after all Harry Potter. I love to reid those reviews!


	12. Gobbstones and Secrets

This chapter is short. Ill admit it. But important. I swear it. Short sentence. I like it. In any case it begins to mark a turning point for this story which I am beginning to suspect in it's entirety will probably span some thirty to thirty five chapters. I fully expect some Potter bashing within the next few chapters. That being said enjoy!

0o0o

Harry was late for breakfast, and as a result he was hungry in charms. This in itself would have been uncomfortable enough. On top of being hungry he was also distracted, and incidentally he accidentally struck Professor Tweady with an electrical shock from the conjured storm clouds they were supposed to be making. Malfoy had laughed behind him in a way that was not at all apologetic but even Harry had to admit it was almost funny. He only allowed himself a half grin however after Professor Tweady's had been helped off the floor and his hat was returned to him .

As though to add to this list of minor public humiliations he was late to History of Magic class even though he had no reason to be so and he had been forced to squeeze and shimmy through the rows of watching students to the last desk left empty. Professor Binns never once stopped lecturing. Harry was more than half a mind to skip Transfiguration by the time the afternoon had captured the castle in its fading early winter half light but he found he didn't quit have the courage to do so knowing that professor Dumbledore would notice his absence.

His last period however was a free period, a golden and miraculous free period. By the time the students were plodding through the transfiguration doors, weary from the sets of calculations they had been given Harry had decided to escape to the grounds. He had disentangled himself from the crowd and was nearly on his way out the front doors when he was halted by Grodisius's voice, jeering and yet vaguely conversational as ever,

"And where are you sneaking of to, Potter?" He asked, peeling off from the wall where he had been standing alone, by all accounts watching him.

"I'm not sneaking." Harry stated perhaps a little loftily, walking down the steps. "I was just going outside."

Malfoy watched him suspiciously, "Alone?"

Harry spread his arms as though to indicate his many friends.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and then said archly, "The Slytherins have quidditch practice, you know." He was following Harry down the steps and onto the lawn and Harry suffered between the sensations of wishing he wouldn't and interest. Malfoy seemed to notice because he said airily, "That's were I'm going." He pointed toward where he knew the quidditch pitch stood and Harry followed his finger out across the lawn toward the very familiar grass with a sudden pang of longing.

"Are you any good?" He asked, half heartedly. By this he meant the Slytherin team which he supposed, with a lurch, was his team now.

"Best out of all four houses." Malfoy answered pompously, and Harry could tell by the way he said it that he considered this the only opinion on the matter.

Harry did his best not to look dismayed. "I bet they are."

Malfoy eyed him as they reached the lawn, "Follow me if you want, I can show you around. You can see how the best team plays."

Once more Harry's eyes drifted past him toward the pitch. Loath as he was to be escorted around it by Malfoy he felt such a burning urge to be back upon it that he didn't think even Grodisius could ruin it for him. Setting off across the grounds together Harry couldn't help feeling a warped sense of how much his life had changed so rapidly. It was a breezy day and it caught both of them about the robes.

The pitch itself was little changed, if anything only antiquated by wooden seats in the stands which he was sure had been renovated by the time Harry had started playing there by the lack of much of the graffiti he was used to seeing. There was gaggle of large looking Slytherins in the changing rooms when they entered and Malfoy took no time in introducing him to the captain. Harry shook his hand watching the set of beaters knock their bats against the lockers. Malfoy seemed to be watching him, "That's Crabbe and Runcorn. A bit slow flying but they make up for it with their, ah," Crabbe knocked his bat against a post thuggishly, "enthusiasm."

Harry raised his eyebrows and Malfoy smirked. "Do you fly Potter?"

Harry shrugged fighting down the strange almost panicky sensation in his stomach that made him want to scream. "A little."

Malfoy had pulled on his green Slytherin quidditch robes. The style, much like his Hogwarts uniform was somehow different from the ones Harry was used to. Grodisius shouldered his broom, a cleansweep three by the look of it; but then Harry remembered, they had probably been consider top of the line more than fifty years ago. Grodisius looked at Harry appraisingly, "They are trying out for new chasers this year," his gaze flicked to Harry's eyes as though challenging him, "if you think you can make the cut."

Harry dithered about on the pitch long after they had begun practice. Something about the smell of it and the familiar way sounds echoed was reassuring to him. But time wasn't ever on his side and he had a whole essay for professor Marvel to finish so hesitantly Harry slopped his way back up the grounds. The heat in the entrance hall once he was out of the wind was almost overwhelming. He made his way for the library in earnest contemplation of what flying for the Slytherin quidditch team might be like. Sure as he was that it would never be the same experience he had had flying with the Gryffindors under Oliver Wood or Angelina he was positive it would still beat the hours of sulking around with his books. He was halfway along the first floor corridor when familiar voices interrupted his reverie. So familiar for a moment he almost thought he had been thinking them up, like a strange auditory circuit gone haywire in his brain.

"Oh hullo, Tom!"

"Morning Rubeus, keeping out of trouble?" The sound of Tom's cool voice made him stand stock still.

"Oh sure, sure." The out of sight Hagrid replied, casually although Harry could almost make out an uncomfortable fidget in his tone. The both of them must be only just around the corner and Harry, especially having recognizing Hagrid's voice suddenly felt uncomfortable and dishonest listening to them.

Harry heard Tom chuckle politely if only a little snidely, "Tending to your pets?" Harry felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Oh, you must mean my little Groggy, Oh he's fine, he's fine. Thriven!" Hagrid's rough voice sounded suddenly higher and more desperate, "I'm surprised you'd remember him Tom, he's just a little thing, yep, mark my words, a tiny little thing."

Harry bit his lip, uncomfortable in the extreme.

"Not an easy thing to forget." Tom's voice had lost the human quality that allowed you to guess at what he was thinking.

"Naw he sure isn't." Hagrid crooned.

"I wonder, Rubeus, if by any chance you've run into Harry Potter?"

Harry startled. Did Tom know he was standing there like a lurker or was he actually searching for him?

"Sorry Tom, I've' been runnin' abou' but I haven't seen him." Hagrid sounded bizarrely crestfallen. "I could help you look if yeh like?"

Harry couldn't take much more. He adjusted his bag and turned the corner, revealing himself. "Not necessary Hagrid." Harry said, much more stiffly the he would have liked taking in the bizarre sight of them both, one slim and graceful the other overlarge and stooping. Because seeing Hagrid, even this soft haired and round faced version just about made him want to cry with joy. Or possibly pity.

Tom looked as composed as he always did and if he was surprised to see him he did not show it. "Harry, I've been looking for you."

"I was caught by Malfoy on the way to quidditch practice. He wanted to give me a tour."

Tom smiled. "I'm sure that was thrilling," he said softly, sarcastically.

Harry smiled. "I was thrilled when I finally escaped from him." Tom laughed.

Tom looked back at Hagrid who was staring from Tom to Harry smiling. "Say hello to 'Groggy' for me." "

"I will." Hagrid called after them. Tom turned and began to walk down the hall, Harry grinned at Hagrid despite himself and followed.

"Sorry about that." Tom said once they had left the Hallway, and taken a set of stairs.

"No problem," Harry muttered, "what's going on?"

Tom considered him, "I talked to the fat friar."

Harry blinked, surprised. "When, last night?"

"No, he was at the death day party."

Harry almost choked recalling the fact that Nearly Headless Nick had died on October thirty first in 1492. Having been present for one of his strange and chilly death day parties before he could very well imagine what this one must have been like. "Oh, yeah. Ok so you talked to him today."

Tom raised an eyebrow, "Well, no, I spoke to the Bloody Barron, who in turn talked to the Fat Friar."

Harry nodded feeing like he was playing a dizzying game of telephone. "And?"

"What we heard was true. They were having an affair."

"I thought so." Harry mumbled, slightly embarrassed to be imaging two of his professors copulating. They walked down another corridor quickly, and Harry realized that they were going to the library.

"Apparently they have been for nearly a year. To think no one knew." There was a strange look on Tom's face as though rather than having discovered a piece of tawdry unless gossip he had discovered something infinitely more interesting that Harry knew.

They stopped in front of a shelf of books. Tom was scanning the shelf muttering. He eventually pulled a dusty volume off the shelf, and Harry was sure the title had had something to do with potions before Tom put it in his bag.

"Are you going check that out?" Harry asked innocently.

Tom snorted and flashed him a lightning smile before he started back out of the library. "Do I ever?"

The rest of the week passed for Harry in the way the last five minutes of an interesting lesson might. Slowly and then faster and the slowly again, in strange and fragmented sections. October melted into November with a steady drop in the temperature. Malfoy tried again to drag Harry to several more quidditch practices witch Harry resisted reluctantly and Lestrange remained the crowned gobbstones champion. Undefeated, it was growing harder to find an opponent, and the games were becoming more and more one sided, as the students he played against became younger because no one his own age was foolish enough to play. After many embarrassing defeats, around the common room there was talk of things that made Harry understand why Lestrange had booby trapped every inch of his bed in the dormitory. On prior occasions Harry had thought this was remarkably odd, of course now it seemed only natural. In fact the same sentiment could be used to explain how Harry was beginning to feel about Slytherin in general.

He was passing all of his classes and he was little by little he was finally able to relax in the company of his housemates, or at least as relaxed as Harry suspected he ever could become sitting in a den of thieves.

So on a Monday, Harry awoke and for the first time it wasn't in a state of panic or confusion. Admittedly, he hadn't been sleeping as easily as he once had and as much as he wanted to blame it on the foreign dormitory, it was really out of fear of another dream like the one he had had a week ago that was keeping him up late at night. Insomnia did, at least give him time to study, which he found was becoming unnecessary. Perhaps it was help from Tom that had started it, but he found his classes getting easier ever day. Harry almost wished he had more homework, or that he had trouble on some of his spells, because it would keep him preoccupied. And preoccupation in this strange world he was living in was the only thing that seemed to keep him calm.

Harry dressed, and took his usual stab at taming his hair, which had stared to bother him recently. Breakfast was nothing unusual although he had been forced to sit by Lestrange and sitting between Lestrange and any of his recent victims was always an unwise thing to do. On his way out of potions Slughorn cut off his conversation with Nott and stopped him.

"Say Harry, I've arranged a supper party for tonight. You'll join us wont you?"

Harry stammered, "Oh, I've got a lot of late homework to do professor."

Slughorn's droopy eyes bore into his, "Oh supper party, study group, it's all the same!"

"I think I'll get it done faster in the common room sir." Slughorn watched him go and gave him a half hearted wink. Harry could tell he was disappointed, but he found that he didn't care at all.

He was however surprised when after dinner he found that he was not the only member of the Slug Club who had skipped the party.

Tom was sitting in front of the fire, showing no signs of having left his work and Harry suspected he had worked through most of dinner and free period. He looked amazingly on edge and for the first time, Harry thought he even looked a little tried. There was something distinctly unhealthy looking about his color and his normally perfect hair looked as though he had been running his fingers through it. Harry approached him slowly and slogged his bag into the chair next to him. Tom jumped, and for a second Harry though he looked annoyed but it was like a breeze had come because the cloud quickly passed. "Harry?"

"Hello." Harry plopped down in a chair and casually examined the table Tom was using. He had several pieces of paper splayed across one another, a stack of books, and what looked like fascinating scribbles he had made of incantations or adjustments to them. "Redesigning the textbook?" Harry asked.

Tom looked like he wanted to make a face. "I'm re-writing a spell."

Harry eyed both Tom and the spell cautiously. "That sounds complicated, difficult, and boring."

Tom looked back down at his writing. "You have no idea."

Harry laughed but the sound was dead. "I probably don't want to. Can I help?"

Tom didn't look up from his work " I seriously doubt it." Tom stopped for a second and smiled. "No offense Potter."

Harry pulled out his own textbook and began his essay, still casting weary looks at the table. If Tom had some new scheme he wanted to be abreast of it and he was going to have to work out how.

That night Harry dreamed again.

He was in the attic, the same moon shone through the same window. Harry breathed in the summer air, made so cold by the blue light and for a moment felt as though he were at the bottom of the ocean. It was just as dark and he was just as graceful. He turned and walked toward the door. It opened seamlessly and Harry stepped out into the hallway that led to the stair case, cloaked as it still was in the deep red carpeting. Harry reached forward and took hold of the railing. That was when he noticed his hands. They were long and pale in the moon light, like listless starfish and they conjured within him a kind of familiar horror although he was not sure why. He descended the stairs, their ancient oak dancing in the dappled white light, as fine as powder. By the time he reached the bottom he felt as though he had dove another thousand feet. He was standing in finely dressed foyer. The carpets here were floral and spotless, the tables in the entrance chamber shiny. The pictures on the wall were classically and ornately framed.

On one of the tables a blue china pattern vase held some pungent smelling flowers. Behind the white French doors to his left Harry could just make out voices. A flicker of firelight.

Then Harry was lying in his bed with his eyes wide, shivering from the cold. All around him he could here his fellow students snoring. He lay there for a long time feeling sufficiently disheartened.

The key to dealing with these dreams, Harry decided the next day at breakfast was simply not to sleep until he was so exhausted no thoughts could permeate his slumber. This was in theory a fairly smashing idea but in practice it was difficult. Or so he realized the next night in the common room. It was half past eight and he was tired, tired but not exhausted.

Harry had thrown himself into an arm chair after dinner, determined to remain both awake and diverted. This had been easy enough when Tom had been sitting by the fire working on his spell because at least that way Harry could spy. When he rolled it up and put it away at nine however Harry was forced to turn his gaze to Malfoy who had been talking to him for quite some time without much attention.

"Potter."

Harry started and turned to Malfoy, surprised at hearing his own name. "What?"

Malfoy had tossed his quill again and was looking mutinous. "You should let me copy your essay before I go manic."

"What? Why?"

Malfoy blinked at him, sneering habitually. "Because Transfiguration is for people who need jobs someday. Just let me see it, Potter, what are you staring at anyway?"

"Nothing!" Harry said quickly but Tom had looked up just as the two of them had looked at him and frowning he walked over to join them. Malfoy flopped to make room, knocking Harry's bottle of ink, spraying Harry's finished homework, and the piece of parchment that Tom had just put on their table. People all around them stared, horrified. When neither Harry or Tom said a word Malfoy scrambled up and muttered something before disappearing. Harry and Tom exchanged a glance and Harry noticed that his mouth had gone very stiff.

As Tom was not in a talking mood, Malfoy had fled in fear of his life and he, Harry had decided not to give into sleeping he found himself in a boredom conundrum. He could fix his now sopping transfiguration homework, but staring off across the common room he decided the idea of picking a fight sounded more appealing. Harry closed his book calmly, "Hey Lestrange."

Lestrange looked up from his homework, obviously surprised. "Yeah?"

"How about a game of gobbstones?"

A hush ran around the common room. Even Tom looked up from his sopping calculations despite himself. Lestrange looked surprised and then his face broke into a cruel looking grin. "You're on."

Lestrange set up the board, and Harry sat opposite him, resolute. Half of the common room had gathered around them to watch the game. Nobody was able to believe that he could be so stupid as to_ challenge_ Lestrange to a game because he was either a genius at the game or he was a fecund cheater, probably both.

Lestrange made the first move. Harry moved second. By the fourth round somehow, all of his pieces seemed to slide over to his side, which made it easier much for Lestrange to win. Harry frowned and Lestrange leered. Harry paused, trying to understand, when one of his pieces began to swell as the did when player took too long to make his move. Damn, he was good. Then again Lestrange had probably just put a gravity spell on the board. Of course, Harry reasoned, Lestrange wasn't the only one who could cheat..

Harry grinned to himself. "Care to make a bet?"

Lestrange looked like he had cracked open a can of cola and found Christmas inside. "How about twenty galleons?" he asked, as though daring him to bet higher.

"Make it forty?" Harry asked coyly. Lestrange grinned.

"You've got a bet Potter."

Harry wormed his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the table, making sure it was out of sight. He was sure that Lestrange was doing the same thing one the other side of the board at that very minute. As his Gobbstones began to swell, Harry shrunk them and sent a small engorgement charm at Lestrange's. At first Lestrange couldn't believe Harry's pieces were able to withstand his spells, but after his own pieces began to look like swelling M&M's Harry could tell he was catching on.

"Make that sixty galleons?" Lestrange asked, obviously frustrated. People around them were whispering. Most of the games didn't last this long and a small crowd had gathered behind their table.

Lestrange had put protection over his gobbstones, but Harry had the idea that he hadn't bothered to protect them from spells that would cut them. He flicked his wand and the mightiest Gobbstone on Lestrange's side burst. The entire contents exploded and Lestrange was squirted fully in the face by an acrid smelling green liquid.

There was a moment of silence, before the entire common room seemed to break into laughter. Lestrange sat, with the liquid running down his face looking ready kill, his hands both clenched very tightly.

"You," Harry smirked, "Owe me sixty Galleons."

When Harry went to bed that night, long after most of the common room was deserted he felt sure his rest would be undisturbed.

For the next few days, Harry was regarded with celebrity among the Slytherins. Everywhere he went, people seemed to be sending him friendly witty comments. One boy had even clapped him on the back before congratulating him and as Harry had found out later, owed Lestrange five galleons himself on a loosing match the week before.

Therefore as Harry made his way back from dinner some two days later, having only just shaken the amused Slytherin and feeling sleepy and well fed he was almost in high spirits before he heard it. He had been expecting it for weeks of course but it didn't make that once harrowing voice any easier to hear.

"Rip...Tear...KILL...I smell Blood..I smell...BLOOD!"

0oo0

Blooood! RUM! RED RUM! On a side note I would like to be the first to admit that I have no idea how the game of Gobbstones is played. I suspect it is both long winded and silly and probably also has a file somewhere on the Lexicon if I actually wanted to look it up but for all points and purposes I hope it played out logically. My apologies if this felt like a bit of a building chapter. Because it was. But I promise, action is right around the corner. Seriously. Right around the corner and in the second floor corridor.


	13. The Secret Is Out, Malfoy Warnings

Hello all. This chapter starts off where the last ended so no huge surprises! As always I'm looking for input! I've shed some hints the size of boulders about the direction this story is heading in so I'm looking to hear now what you guys think because the next chapter is going to be a doozie. Enjoy!

o0o0

Harry froze, his insides crawling. Not for the first time his immediate instinct was to follow. To warn whoever he might find in the hallways to return to their dormitory but even as he stood frozen another creeping instinct was taking hold in his mind. He couldn't reasonably warn any of his fellow students to flee without looking very suspicious. Hadn't he learned enough about that last time?

It was a painful moment and the longer he stood the further away the voice had slunk. Dumbledore. Dumbledore had said that anything in this time would be erased from history is he returned to his proper time. Even if he managed to save someone, wouldn't they just die anyway when history corrected itself. Harry had always been good with action; when the time came to do something brave he was always the first to rush in but to not act? For the first time in his life he felt that to not act was the thing to do. With slow jerky steps as first he forced himself to continued on his way to the Slytherin dormitory.

It was mostly empty as the rest of the students where at dinner which was just as well because when Harry saw his reflection in the mirror on the mantle piece he was unsurprised to see he looked pale and shaken. Harry ran a hand over his sweaty hairline and took a deep breath determined to appear unaffected. Behind him in the mirror however, Harry was slightly surprised to see Tom's bag, and books by the table. Harry turned around and looked at them. Tom would not be back for some time, he was sure of that and this was an action that might yield useful results. He dithered for one moment longer before flinging himself onto the couch and pulling Tom's bag close to him, keeping it low.

Harry did his best not to get his hopes up; most likely he was only going to find notes in Tom's dark elegant script that would take him hours to understand. Harry pulled out a plain manila folder stuffed with papers and laid it on the table, careful not to disturb it.

Harry withdrew and the old and battered book that had been underneath them and turned it over to reveal the title; _Moste Potente Potions. _An old trickle of excitement ran through him. He knew this book as Hermione had used it to brew polyjuice potion in their second year. Bizarrely they had used that batch of polyjuice potion to sneak into the Slytherin dorms. Harry looked around him at the green and silver decorated walls that quivered in that strange underwater light he had first seen with Ron that day. Well here he was now, Harry thought hollowly. Idly Harry flipped through the book to the page on polyjuice potion and realized that Tom had already marked it with a piece of paper. There was also a book mark placed between the pages on flesh melting brews and grimacing Harry put the book down.

There was a journal and as Harry shook his school things, a crumpled piece of parchment fell onto the shiny polished surface of the table. Harry picked it up feeling uncomfortable and quickly unfolded it.

_Tom,_

_If you ever need help with your charms, I can show you some of mine._

_Hoping to see you after class._

_Minerva _

Harry coughed into his mouth and refolded it hoping to God that this Minerva would never be his transfiguration teacher. Hastily Harry refilled Tom's bag so that it looked the same as it had when he had found it and not a moment too soon. No sooner had he pushed the bag back toward the table than the portrait hole opened and a dozen or so Slytherins rumbled in, back from dinner. Harry took up his charms book and began reading, waiting. Tom came in with the last of the dinner crowd and Harry didn't dare look at him over the rim of the textbook for fear that his eyes might give him away.

He watched as Tom pulled out his books and Harry noticed the note he had found was trapped between the cover and page one. Tom opened it and Harry watched him frown as though annoyed before tossing it into the fire.

"What was that?" Harry asked, breaking the silence and trying very hard not to smirk.

Tom shrugged, "Nothing."

SEPTEMBER 1996, HOGWARTS

Hermione had known Harry to disappear before- for hours at a time sometimes. She had always explained it to herself as his need for time to think. Harry wasn't like the rest of them. He had so much more to worry about and so many more people counting on him that there were times Hermione was surprised he hadn't gone mad.

The flip side of that coin was that she and Ron had ceased to have normal lives as well.

They were always there for Harry, and being there for Harry was never easy. Together they had found not just loyalty and happiness but had managed to do some good in the world. So when Harry was absent from all his classes for a whole Hermione progressed from being worried to being frightened.

Hermione found Ron's pale worried face over dinner and resolved herself. She pushed her plate away made her way to the headmasters door. They had talked during their last period charms class, at the back and out of ear shot. The way Ron figured, it was some sort of prearranged plan between Harry and Dumbledore. Dumbledore after all was supposed to be giving Harry private lessons this year and why else would no teacher have made any effort to ask them where he had went? The way Ron told it, he had gone to bed the night before and Harry's bed had been empty, although littered with crackers and the marauders map.

She knew that Ron would be mad when he found out that Hermione had gone to the headmaster without him, insulted even. But Hermione couldn't help but shake the feeling that something was wrong and that she would be able to get more honest rational conversation out of Professor Dumbledore without him.

Hermione reached the stone gargoyle and tried to summon her strength. Even as she was standing there summoning she spotted a critical error in her plan. She didn't know the password.

"Dumbledore?" She stuttered, feeling very stupid. The Gargoyle didn't budge. What had Harry told her once? That he made up his passwords off of candies?

"Fizzing whizbee?"

"Mrs. Granger?" Hermione startled and turned around to find her quarry striding toward her, tall and magnificently robed as always. Speaking of the devil. She flushed. "Professor."

"Was there something you were looking for Miss Granger?" His eyes were kindly but close up Hermione thought he looked rather weary and grave.

Hermione glanced about the corridor around them nervously, suddenly unsure where to start, feeling as though it had been presumptuous of her in the first place to march there demanding answers

"If you think you would be more comfortable discussing the matter in private, we could of course go up to my office." He peered down over the bridge of his nose, studying her, with those icy knowing eyes, "I have been told that some of my guests have even, upon occasion, found it comfortable there."

Hermione nodded, "I would like that sir."

"Of course," he said gracefully and with the motion of his wand the gargoyle leapt aside to allow them access to the spiral staircase. Once Dumbledore had taken a seat and before Hermione even knew what she was doing she could feel herself becoming hysterical. She had never been in Dumbledore's office alone with him before and a panic gripped her stomach in the iron locked clasp of dread. Her voice- and she could hear it despite her hysteria- was high pitched and manic but Dumbledore listened, quietly and somberly as she told her story. About how they could not find Harry. About how she had went up to his dorm and taken the marauders map hoping to find him on it. How the map no longer worked.

"We can't find him Professor. I know it sounds stupid, me standing here and telling you that but I think that something is wrong."

Dumbledore who hadn't even once interrupted remained motionless. She noticed a real trace of fear in his old face. "I was informed when Harry failed to attend his classes today."

Hermione felt as though she had swallowed lead. _Dumbledore didn't know where he was. _"He has never done anything like this before professor, not unless he was in the hospital wing."

Dumbledore, opened his mouth to say more and when Hermione almost continued to talk he raised a hand as though to calm her. "I am aware of that Miss Granger. I have asked each of my professors in turn."

That knot of panic was back and she still felt that he wasn't quite grasping the situation.

"Sir," she said, more to press the point than anything, "We watched him go up to his to dormitories last night, and I don't think we ever saw him come down."

"Did you think to look for his invisibility cloak?" He asked sharply.

Of course she hadn't. She hadn't had the time, she had just made it off with that map as it was. If the boys had caught her in their dormitory snooping.. She blushed slightly under his knowing gaze.

"I see." He seemed to be thinking.

"Sir, there is something else, something more." She pulled the map out of her bag and looked at it before throwing caution to the winds. Harry Potter was missing and Hermione felt that justified taking his things. "This was on his bed sir." She felt a pang of disappointment in herself as she handed it over, something akin to the way she had felt in third year when she had made it so that Harry's Firebolt had been confiscated, that old feeling that she was giving away secrets that did not belong to her.

Dumbledore took it from Hermione, and looked down at it. His glasses filled with the reflection of the candlelight as he bent his head and for a moment their twinkle was obscured completely and filled with the echoes of disembodied flame. Hermione stood and walked to the door noiselessly but when she put her hand on the handle she whispered without turning, "Thank you professor."

Dumbledore listened to the soft whisper and click of the door closing. Once he was alone again he abandoned all pretense and sunk his head into his hands, suddenly filled with an ancient tiredness. He held himself that way for some time until the soft gentle mew of Fawkes awakened him to the world outside of his grief and his worry. He reached out his charred hand and stroked the phoenix's beak before he touched his wand to the map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

NOVEMBER 1949, HOGWARTS

Harry crumpled up his piece of parchment in frustration and squeezed it into a tight little snitch sized ball. "I don't remember, the answer to question three, is it A. trolls or C. goblins?" He and Malfoy were sitting in the library, the sun was casting a silken glare over his homework, and he was beginning to despair of ever finishing it.

Malfoy paused for moment, sneering as he did so although the affect appeared more habitual than hostile. "Well as a pack of trolls have about six brain cells between them, let go ahead and shoot with "C." for goblins." Harry looked up smirking, knowing as well as anyone else that as much as Malfoy enjoyed taking the piss out of his homework he was more determined than most of them to score well. Malfoy pressed his quill to the long list of questions on their take back tests with a flourish and mouthed "C."

"Of course, neither species is allowed wands, maybe it's a trick question." Harry skimmed over his text. "Unless it was a stolen wand."

"Well naturally," Grodisius drawled, quill twitching an inch above his parchment. "but that's just the sort of thing these breeds are famous for."

Harry closed his eyes and groaned. He had been trapped in the library with Malfoy for hours now, and he was beginning to lose some of his nerve. With his homework untouched, and his mind elsewhere, the library was like a holding cell. Of course his thoughts we on Tom. Tom who had finally, at long last discovered the chamber of secrets. A stream of persistent questions had battered away at his subconscious all day, and he was beginning to get nervous. He hadn't seen much of Tom all day, and that in itself worried him. He was almost happy to hear the bell ring, even if it meant his homework would be dangerously unprepared.

"S'the bell." Malfoy muttered, distracted by his own half finished test. " Professor Tweady won't notice." He said, sounding less than convinced himself.

The two of them trooped to charms with the enthusiasm of prisoners walking the last mile but Harry brightened when they found Tom waiting in the hallway. It was good to know that he wasn't skipping classes.

Tom eyed them both, round shouldered and dour. "'Lo." Harry and Grodisius both answered his look. Harry leaned against the stone wall trying to pen in answers before they entered. Malfoy was glancing over his shoulder to copy down his progress. "Hey Tom, was the answer to question three goblins or trolls?" Harry muttered, trying very hard scribble lightly so as not to puncture the parchment with his pen tip.

Tom looked up. "During the riots? Trolls."

There was the sound of Malfoy cursing as he pressed his test into the wall to change his answer.

Tom eyed them both with a look of amusement mixed with disdain as they began to file in to the classroom. Harry took a seat beside him and yawned, tucking the hastily finished paper under his books. Looking around Harry was surprised to see Lestrange take the seat to his right, noting that he looked as displeased as Harry did about it. Since his spectacular and very much due Gobbstones defeat they had had very little to do with one another.

Lestrange pulled out his quill lightning quick and jut missed Harry's eye with it. Slowly Lestrange turned to face him. "Whoops. _Close_ call Potter."

Harry prickled, annoyed but even as he watched Lestrange began to rip up sheaves of parchment into little pieces, his eyes flashing fever bright in Harry's direction as though he threatened to do the same to Harry if he leaned too close. No wonder Bellatrix would marry into his family, Harry thought to himself nastily, the whole lot of them were whackos. As if to add to his state of annoyance, Tom sat beside him perfectly silent and calm; the secrets of the chamber and his life locked away inside, just as resolutely as ever.

It was a day of stubborn worry for Harry. It was as though overnight, the game had suddenly changed. The chamber was open and the world of Hogwarts mysteries suddenly opened wider- or so it seemed to Harry. The trouble was, until Tom confided in him, which he might never do he was left in the cold just outside of reach. Unless he wanted to resolve himself to a life of creeping forever, trapped in the past searching Tom's book bag whenever he left it unattended something had to be done. So that evening when he saw Tom slip out of the common room he got up, slipping his wand safely into the pocket of his robes, and followed.

The castle was dark, and Tom moved like the night the way he knew his way around. Harry followed him up three floors and down two corridors. Then he lost sight of him when they reached the entrance hall. Harry might have been worried if he hadn't had such a good idea of where he was going. Harry cut across the entrance hall, and took the first shortcut he came upon before he was forced to stop on the other side. He was standing behind a portrait of several old monks and just outside it was not the vacant corridor he had been anticipating but the noise of a struggle.

"What are you _doing _you cretin, I haven't done anything wrong!" Harry heard Malfoy's voice loud and full of displeasure.

"What's that you've got in your hand?" the voice of the caretaker Augustus barked, clearly put out by Grodisius's arrogant stubbornness.

"Don't you touch me!" Malfoy hissed, and Harry could only imagine Malfoy struggling to escape from the caretakers rough hands. Then he thought he heard the swish of something moving through the air, and a thunk.

"That's my personal property! You have no right to look at that! " Malfoy was insisting.

There was the rustling of papers and then the caretaker clucked triumphantly in that tell tale Scottish lilt of his. "These are the student records, these are. They certainly don't belong to the likes of you."

Whatever they said next Harry missed entirely because his body had gone numb with fear. What would those records show? Surely Dumbledore would not have added anything to give him up, but what if they already showed that he was not due at Hogwarts until the year 1991? Surely by arriving here he had brought the existence of that file with him? How could Malfoy have even gotten to them? Harry clenched his fists. He had probably taken them from Dippit's office, the slime ball. Harry released his hands and willed himself to stay clam. Perhaps all had not been lost. Perhaps the files showed nothing. Perhaps, and it was more than likely, Malfoy had not had time to read them since he had just been caught sneaking back with them. If he had not had the chance to read them then Harry was saved, because he was certain Augustus would simply take them back. But what would he do if he had read them? What, and Harry stomach slipped at the thought, would Tom do?

A wild plan was formulating in his head and Harry briefly toyed with the idea of taking them by surprise, obliviating the both of them, and relieving them of the files as he did so. But it seemed that even in this moment of panic his common sense had not deserted him. _No, _his mind seemed to whisper to him, _that would be a stupid thing to do. _He would have to wait for Malfoy to get away and head him off before he reached Tom. That was simply the only non rash way of going about it.

Harry heard Augustus chuckle growlingly. "You're lucky. Professor Dippit is out this evening, and without the headmasters full permission there isn't that much I can do but in the morning you are mine boy and won't you live to regret it."

Malfoy made a spitting sound. "We'll see."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes and with the sudden realization that Malfoy was probably about to take the passageway he was standing in, he began to back away. He would have to meet Grodisius several floors down if he did not want to immediately appear suspicious. Soundlessly Harry retreated until he was far enough down in the dungeons that he could flip around and start walking back toward him again. He had barely had to walk ten steps before predictably, Malfoy came hurtling at him from around a corner. Malfoy reeled back, still looking as furious as he had sounded. "Careful, Potter!" He snapped.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Sorry. What's got you all worked up?"

Malfoy flushed, looking suddenly defensive. "Nothing. You should just watch were you are going is all."

"Seen Augustus lately?" Harry asked, watching his eyes. Sure enough a spark of something passing through them and he paled. "I've been looking for him, is all." Harry continued taking a step closer.

" I haven't seen him." Grodisius said sharply, before edging around him and continuing to walk at a sharp clip. Harry sped after him like a malignant shadow.

"You see, I think you have seen him." Harry mentioned casually as he drew even with him, "I know he is on patrol, you couldn't help but bump into him." Harry could tell from the look on Malfoy's face that he was about to curse him and abandoning pretense completely Harry reached out and whipped Malfoy wand out of his hand while he still could. Grodisius staggered back into the wall looking both frightened and no little bit outraged.

"Give me my wand Potter!"

"Maybe I will if you start talking Malfoy."

Malfoy said nothing, glaring at him impotently, having already lost the battle the moment Harry took his wand. Finally with a face as though he had swallowed a lemon Malfoy spat out, "Fine, you already know it, I saw him."

"What did Augustus want?" Harry asked.

"He wanted me to clean up a mess I made in the dungeons."

"You didn't make a mess in the dungeons, you were with me today." Harry pressed.

Nostrils flaring, Malfoy looked him in the eye. "He caught me taking something."

"Taking what?"

Malfoy looked at him, and Harry could tell he was trying to think of something that Harry wouldn't see through. "I already know, so you might as well tell the truth." Harry muttered.

"The records then." Malfoy was looking at his wand now, as though afraid what Harry might do with it. "It wasn't my idea Potter so don't go taking it out on me."

Harry made a face just as nasty as Malfoy's. "Tom didn't tell you to steal them though did he? He wanted you to get them through your uncle. My guess is he'll be pretty upset you got caught stealing them."

Harry could tell Grodisius was surprised by the look of blank horror on his face and Harry had a moment of relish watching him flounder before he let his tone drop to something more conversational and less accusatory. "What happened? Your uncle wouldn't give them to you?"

"No, he was against it from the start." Malfoy said evasively, looking around as though afraid Tom might pop out from behind a corner.

"Look, I'm not going to tell Tom on you ok."

Grodisius looked bitter again. "I don't need your help Potter. Besides It doesn't matter. Augustus is going to the principal in the morning, and it will all be out. Tom is going to be mad either way."

Harry mulled this over. "Look Grodisius, I can probably do you a favor here but only if you answer me truthfully. If you do I might be able to tell you how mad he'll be."

There was a long hard moment between them before Malfoy's lip twitched and he whispered, "I don't even know why he wanted them."

The best part was Harry could tell that he truly didn't just by the look on his face. Malfoy hadn't read the records. He was safe but just as this wonderful realization eased the panic in his chest Malfoy reached forward and grabbed him by the collar. His face was altered in a way Harry had never seen and it was suddenly horrible, his eyes were wide with meaning and his voice had changed to a hard jagged hiss, "but just the fact that he wanted them _means_ something Potter. It means he wants something on you. Wants something or he suspects something and he doesn't have it," Harry stared back terrified as Malfoy dropped to a whisper, "You have no idea what he is really like Potter. Whatever that thing is that he wants, you _best_ keep it a secret."

Harry yanked away from him, his heartbeat suddenly much faster. "Thanks Malfoy, that's all I wanted to know." Harry handed him back his wand. Grodisius took it and gave him one last look before pushing past him, knocking his shoulder as he did so. Hard.

Harry waited for him to be out of sight before he let out the long shaky breath he had been holding, Malfoy's unexpected warning was still beating in his ears.

"Well, well, Mr. Potter. If it isn't the man of the hour."

Harry reeled around and was very startled to see Augustus the caretaker standing just behind him. Harry hadn't even heard him approaching. "Professor." Harry said respectfully, hoping to get away as quickly as possible. Augustus grinned but it came out somehow like a leer and Harry had the peculiar sensation that something was wretchedly wrong without knowing why. "Professor.."

"Caught out of bed are we, Mr. Potter? You know, You're the second student I've seen tonight and it's very interesting that I should run in to you of all people."

Harry didn't like this. He didn't like the tone of Augustus's voice at all. What did he mean that it was interesting he should run into him? Harry frowned, "Sorry, sir why is that?"

Augustus was almost iron eyed now and every instinct in Harry's body was telling him to run despite the fact that this was a Hogwarts staff member. "I caught a student running around out of bed tonight with a stack of student records. Imagine that."

Harry could. What he couldn't imagine was why Augustus thought that had had anything to do with him… It clicked into place just as Harry noticed that Augustus, who unlike Filch was not a squib, had his wand in his hand. Dry mouthed Harry looked from the wand to Augustus's face. "I don't know what you are trying to say professor." Harry said flatly.

Augustus smiled that leering smile of his again. "I think you do Mr. Potter. I think you probably already know that your file is highly irregular. Dangerously so one might even say. So irregular that I'm having a hard time sorting out how you even got in to this school. So irregular that I think you might just be a threat."

Harry did his best to look innocent. "Sir, I think you must have misunderstood."

Augustus's wand was raised now, "I don't think I misunderstood anything Mr. Potter. I think you don't belong here and that you ought to come with me right now so that we can figure this little situation out. Slughorn's office is closest isn't it?" The wand that was trained on him now was quivering with the excitement of catching wrong doing. Harry had no choice but to lead the way.

0o0o

As a side note how are you guys liking Lestrange? I never meant for him to be much of a regular character but the little bastard is starting to grow on me. As always I love them reviews. Sweet, tasty reviews.

Oh, and so it begins.


	14. Of Curses and Oaths

Ok, so this is like my shortest chapter ever. There also isn't really any Tom in it. Oh and Harry goes off the deep end but otherwise, she's solid. Expect a larger update including more exposition to follow this one.

ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: I totally snagged some writing straight out of the pages of GOF and put it in MY story like a thief in the night. Forgive me.

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Harry was numb with shock. Of all the ways he had imagined being exposed, 'by the caretaker in the middle of the night' hadn't even made his list. They were winding their way deeper into the dungeons and Harry's brain was working feverishly to untwist the coils of this mess he had gotten himself into. Desperation had given his thoughts a sharp edge and if Augustus had not made Harry march before him Harry might have attacked him. It's not like it would have mattered anyway if he managed to hide it, Harry thought sharply. Professor Dumbledore had said that his actions would not remain behind when Harry finally managed to get back to his own time. History would just reset itself when he left.

They were walking down a familiar corridor now and when they reached the classroom Harry had potions in they stopped and Harry was forced inside at wand point. "Do you know how long I have been working for this school boy?" Augustus asked when they reached Slughorn's office. When Harry just looked at him despondently he continued, "Long enough to know that I've put years of my life into keeping this school running and no one has ever given me the credit I deserve."

Slughorn's office was predictably gloomy at this hour of the night, but it still didn't hold a candle to the general aura of dismay that the modern day Snape's office might have at any given time. The lamps were all unlit and with a shiver Harry realized that the office held a certain dampness to it that it did not generally have during the day. "I may not know much boy, but I know enough to say that Professor Dippit will have you kicked out for this."

Harry would like to think that this wasn't true but the truth was he didn't know how much Dumbledore had told Professor Dippit. It was very possible that Dumbledore had held back details and that Professor Dippit had admitted him on Dumbledore's word alone.

"It's bad luck all around for you boy that professor Dippit wont be back until tomorrow." Harry looked up now because that didn't tally at all. If professor Dippit wasn't in the school than why had August bothered bringing him here? Even as he thought it Harry realized what was happening. What he had allowed to happen. Augustus wanted all the credit for himself and he was going to lock him here, in this dark unlit office like a criminal. " Im going to leave you in here until then. Couldn't have you sneaking off now could I?"

A hot swoop of anger made him shake and for one reason or another something Grodisius had said one in a foul mood came back to him. _"That Augustus is as useless as a squib." _

Dumb as a squib and here he was trapped and cowering. Something about that realization stirred him, warmed him more than firewiskey ever could and Harry began to feel his fear ebb away. He still had his wand and that was certainly something.

"Ill get a medal for this, no more overlooking the caretaker, that's for damn sure." Augustus backed out of the room and shut the door, plunging Harry into darkness. "Ill be just outside this room boy," Augustus called. "No tricks or this will be even nastier for you when we see the headmaster."

Harry blinked in the acute blackness, a small smile breaking over his face as he felt his wand in his pocket. The room was windowless, so Harry withdrew his wand slowly and whispered, "Lumos." The tiny orb of light was enough to make the room look green and strangely alien. Harry squinted and made out Slughorn's desk, and the shelves of potions behind it gleamed dustily. He had to take stock of this situation and fast. Harry stood for a moment longer before sitting on the floor. He had less then nine hours to find a way to keep Augustus quiet. If Harry knew one thing it was that nine hours might seem like a lot of time at the start, but when they represented a count down they were sure to pass with a record speed. Perhaps it was the strange underwater quality of the lumos in the room but Harry's thoughts traveled back to his fourth year when he had attempted to find a way to breathe under water overnight. A lot had changed since then.

So much that he was now trapped in a ghost life where none of his actions were permanent but the ones that lead to his untimely demise. He needed to simplify the matter.

What he needed was a way to get out of the room unhindered. Then, and most important of all, a way of silencing Augustus that would not be traced back to him. First things first. Escape. Augustus was no doubt standing just outside the potions classroom, which if Harry was not mistaken, had a main entrance and a smaller side entrance that exited just down the corridor and in plain sight of the main door as a potions security precaution. Harry had no doubt that he could simply cast an unlocking spell and escape the office which was at the back of the classroom, but exiting into the hall and then approaching Augustus was out of the questions because if the caretaker cursed him first there would be no room for second chances. What he needed, was a disguise. Harry leapt to his feet and approached the wall of bottles, hoping, praying he would find what he was looking for.

Harry scanned the first row hastily to no effect and it wasn't until he reached the bottom shelves, that he found what he was trying to locate. He lifted the potion off the shelf and read the label again, just the be sure. There written in loopy handwriting, the ink faded, was the label he wanted. _Polyjuice Potion._

Harry pulled the top of the bottle out, and smelled to make certain. The putrid mixture of cabbage smell and sour swamp was immediately reassuring and overpowering. Dimly Harry imagined that the foul odor must be what Lestrange's feet smelled like. Harry held his breath and put the cork down on this desk, knowing this next part was what would make or break his plan.

By some extraordinary almost provincial luck, Harry had not worn his own Slytherin robe over the rest of his uniform that morning. Having arrived fresh from the nineties and past the start of term he had hardly had a chance to do his diagon alley shopping and the school had only provided him with two sets of robes. This meant that if he forgot to chuck them in the hamper he was terribly likely to run out of clean robes and just that morning he had been forced to throw on a pair of his own twice worn pants and a sweater and then asked to borrow a robe due to his own laziness. Breath baited Harry began to trace the fabric for a hair that was not his own, but the robes usual occupant. No one in the dormitory had a cat so he felt reasonably safe in assuming he wouldn't have to pull a Hermione. At last Harry found one that he felt reasonably sure was not the precise shade of his own. Harry took up one of Slughorn's coffee cups and dropped the hair in it, feeling not for the first time, a little disgusted with the need for biological material Polyjuice required.

Harry wiped the rim of the mug on his robes for a long time, before poring enough Polyjuice potion to fill it halfway. Harry dried the coffee he had spilt on the desk, as he didn't want anyone to notice it, and he recapped the bottle of polyjuice potion. He placed it on the shelf and returned to the mug.

The potion had shifted when it made contact with the hair and had turned dark blue. Harry took a deep breath and drank it down. Though his memory of taking polyjuice potion was not painful, it was extremely awkward and this time proved to be no exception.

For a moment Harry feared it wouldn't work, that it had been his own hair but then he felt the gurgling warping sensation of hot wax taking new form steal across his skin. It brought him to his knees in it's strangeness and then as quickly as they had come the sensations stopped. As he stood back up again he removed his glasses, startled by the sight of his own unfamiliar hands, and pocketed them.

Harry quickly pulled a box of candied pineapple that had been under a stack of essays toward him, and he transfigured it quickly so that it looked almost like his own body, the body of something remarkably student shaped at least, asleep near the desk. It certainly would never had fooled Dumbledore but he had a feeling it would trick Augustus if it came down to it.

Next Harry tested the door. "Alohamora." The door unlocked, just as Harry thought it would. He could hardly believe his luck thus far and something about the totality of his disguise gave him new courage. Harry crept toward the side door and muttered a second Alohamora. The door cracked open silently just enough for Harry to take a peek into the hall. Augustus stood with his back to him at the end of the corridor keeping a silent vigil.

Harry eased himself into the hallway and pushed the door shut behind him. Augustus did not stir. Harry braced himself and strode toward him, trying to appear like the person whose face he was wearing and not like an escaped prisoner.

He gripped his wand tightly, taking comfort in its feel in his hand. It was his one safety net, as long as he had his wand, somehow, it seemed that he might manage this, as long as he could think clearly he might manage to control the situation. As long as luck favored him because oh God if he messed this up wearing this face it would be the death of him.

Augustus caught sight of him, and Harry was disgusted to see that he still looked as though Christmas had come early. "What are you up to, out so late?" he asked, respectfully but suspiciously "Prefects rounds Tom?"

Harry smiled softly, not missing a beat. "Of course," and then "you're out late yourself sir."

Augustus smiled. "Oh, I wouldn't be anywhere else tonight Tom."

Harry didn't allow himself the satisfaction of feeling angry, instead he continued as though nothing in the world was more natural "As I was coming down into the dungeons, I ran into Professor Marvel sir." Augustus's look flickered with surprise and something else untold. "She asked me to come and find you, she said she had something very important she wanted to talk to you about, she seemed a little distressed." Harry paused as though he were thinking. He felt a pang of remorse for bringing up professor Marvel, for using the fact that he knew Augustus cared for her. It made him feel somehow even more despicable than he already was. "I could take you to her, if you like. I should think it would be my duty as a prefect."

Augustus thought a moment, clearly distracted by this made up piece of news. "I suppose so, everything is all secure here."

Harry smirked. "What was that sir?"

"Oh nothing Tom," Augustus muttered, "Lead the way."

He and Augustus set off walking. His quickly formulated plan began to drop off here a bit. This was the part Harry was very unsure of. He could wipe his memory, but he wasn't sure he trusted himself insert a new memory in it's place when the results depending on it were so massive. The real Tom surely could, but Harry simply didn't have flawless memory charm skills. Tom Riddle, the master of deceptions himself, was probably back in his bed now having spent his evening exploring the chamber of secrets.

At that crucial moment, Harry finally realized where he was going. With a jolt he noticed that he had already been leading them there. They had already reached the second floor, his feet leading them there of their own accord. His eyes sought out the bathroom halfway down the corridor, past the place where the Diary Riddle had forced Ginny to leave the message of her own death on the wall in blood herself. It was as though a million little deaths were occurring inside him as he stood there, popping like lights as he went on staring, knowing what it was he would have to do. The deaths of his parents, of Sirius, of a million nameless faces seemed to fill him and here he was in the seat of it all. The place where all of this madness had begun and he was wearing it's childhood face. The face of Tom, not Voldemort as he would someday become.

Words came to him and incredibly, they were words of Mad eye Moody, or rather Barty Crouch Jr. a death eater in disguise. Possibly it was because he had been the first person to teach Harry about unforgivable curses. Not the last but the first.

Mad Eye Moody who had first showed him the curse that had ended his parents life. The way he had faced them, desensitized and brusque. _"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it- You could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed." _

Harry wavered and Augustus looked sideways at him, as though wondering where he was meant to go and beginning to think it was odd that they had suddenly stopped.

_"But that doesn't matter, I'm not here to teach you how to do it." _

No, that was something you had to do for yourself.

Harry looked into Augustus's eyes, willing himself to remember that it was only an image he was altering and nothing more, that he was not a permanent piece of this history. To remember that no matter now real it felt if he were able to cut into the map's magic he would be able to see that he had still not yet even been born. And as he opened his mouth and raised his wand he knew with a kind of resounding clarity that Moody would no longer even think of asking Harry to point his wand at him, and say the spell out loud.

"Avada Kedavra."

Augustus's eyes widened and Harry felt it deep in his soul, as though he were suddenly the vessel of death itself, there was a rush of green light and something tore itself from Harry's body as though the spell had been lingering in his skin. The was a rushing sound and then silence.

Harry stared hard at the body on the ground in front of him with a shudder of utter revulsion. He was standing alone in the second floor corridor with a corpse. _He had just murdered a man._ Harry quickly transfigured the body into something smaller, the first thing he could think of was a mouse.

Still in a daze Harry picked up it's small, soft body and carried it across the hall, shouldering open the bathroom door. He strode over to the sinks as though he had been commanded to and when he found the tap he was looking for he stopped.

"Open, " he hissed and the words came more easily to him then they usually would, almost as though Tom's body itself bore the trait. The tunnel that led down into the chamber's dark depths stood before him and Harry faced it, still holding the mouse. He might have been repulsed touching it if he had not transfigured it himself, but the real thing was even more terrible. An hour ago Harry had been on the brink of ruin, of exposure and if that had been his fate Harry was certain he never would have completed the Map's quest to discover a secret, would never have found his way back to his own time to fight Voldemort as he knew he had to. As Harry looked down into the chamber he felt as though he were standing on the brink of a separate and completely different ruin. There was no turning back now. Harry let the body drop, knowing that sooner or later, Slytherins monster would eat it and make it disappear forever. The chamber sensing this sacrifice closed itself after it.

The glimmer of his own reflection in the mirror made him jump and even as he stared, Tom Riddle looked back from the depths of the glass. There was a cold flush upon his cheeks and Harry looked hard at himself, as though trying to memorize the lines of a complex and foreign enemy. "Im going to beat you." Harry said to Tom, who was really himself and he meant it. If this was what it took to make it happen, than that was even more incentive for him to return to his own time and by leaving, set everything right again because once Harry was back in his own time Augustus would be alive again and it would all be like some kind of terrible nightmare. Harry took one more look at the glass before departing, feeling at last, he was really in the game. Tom Riddle had no idea what he was up against.

Harry waited for the spell to wear off before crawling back into his dormitory. He had slipped into Slughorn's office and transfigured the fake sleeping student back into pineapple and then waited in the darkness for the uncomfortable shift of the potion leaving him. The second his head hit the bed he was asleep but not before he had made one last oath that in the morning, his quest for Hogwarts greatest secret would begin afresh and this time, nothing was going to stop him.

0o0o

Well I told you we were going to take a turn for the dark side didn't I? I can't wait for your comments! One thing I want to add just in case it wasn't clear is that while Harry is now a murderer he genuinely does believe that by leaving the past his actions will be undone, making it not so much an act of ultimate evil but an uncomfortable gray area. Because I really do want to make Harry's character arch believable I hope all of you understand and that you don't come to think of Harry as being evil but rather a person summoning all of the courage they they to do despicable things so that they can return, all the while believing that these actions do not actually count. New posts soon! As always, I love to hear what you are thinking.


	15. Guilty as the Chamber Opens

Hello again guys! First off the bat, wow, thank you all for the powerful response that I got for the last chapter. My inbox the day after I last posted just blew me away! The comments and constructive criticism were truly amazing! Next up, lets talk about this chapter which will deal with the introduction of the Horcruxes and the aftermath of last chapter's big story evolution. I have a feeling this one is maybe more of a building chapter than I had originally intended but fingers crossed it remains at least slightly interesting. After much plot construction and outlining I have reached the point where I can very nearly guess that this story will span about thirty chapters. That means that with this post the story is halfway completed. It also means there are fifteen more posts before the conclusion. Personally I choose to see the glass as half full so without further ado..

0o0o

Harry was awake early the next morning despite having gone to bed so late. His hair fell calmly, if somewhat limply and his eyes were red from exhaustion. The moment his clock read seven o'clock he decided to dress and he made his way to the common room with his books in his arms feeling that if today were to mark the beginning of his renewed attempts at escape from this time, then he needn't waste any more time sleeping.

At first glance the common room appeared deserted. The leather couches and chairs were shrouded in darkness and the dying embers in the fireplace gave off the only light. He was unsurprised however, upon venturing into the room, to find Tom still sitting in a corner working. The piece of parchment Harry had seen him working on days ago was out on the table in front of him and as Harry got closer to him, he noticed that he seemed to have put a great deal more work into it. He had crossed out large sections of it and then for good measure added to it, so that the original now carried onto four more pages.

"Don't you sleep?" Harry asked as he pulled out a book that he had no real interest in and took a spot on the couch next to him.

" Not really." Tom muttered honestly as he scratched out another section of his own calculations with a furious gusto. He seemed a little irritable.

"What are you working on?" Harry asked, trying not to sound as nosey as he certainly felt.

Tom finished blotting and started to write again over the scribble he had just made. "I told you, I'm rewriting a spell."

Harry looked back at his book to hide his surprise. " It's taken _you_ two weeks to rewrite a spell? What does the spell do?"

Tom shook his head, subconsciously pressing one of his hand to his temple. "Trust me, it would bore you to tears."

"I'm up at the crack of dawn. Murder would bore me to tears." At this unfortunate choice of words Harry felt a sudden desperate wave of nausea and ceased speaking.

"I don't suppose you happen to know anything about dark principal curses?" Tom mused.

Harry shrugged, recovering from the surge of guilt. He didn't even know what a dark principal curse was. " A little a guess."

Tom nodded. "What have you ever heard about Horcruxes? Even in passing or conversation?"

Harry thought for a moment because the word 'horcrux' actually did sound familiar. He thought maybe, in his weeks of library bound seclusion researching the chamber of secrets, during which he had read his way through half of the restricted section he might have come across it. If he had he was sure it had not been more than in passing. Harry waited for his brain to sift through his memory log and locate that flicker of recollection, "_Of the horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions we shall not speak nor give direction_." Harry recited out loud, suddenly remembering a mysteriously ominous passage he had come across in _Magic Most Evile_. He'd never have even remembered it at all if it hadn't been so elusively foreboding. Harry thought for a moment to see if there was anything else but he was fairly sure that was it. "I don't know what they do." he admitted. "The book was pretty clear on that point."

Tom looked a little disappointed, as if for one wild moment, he had actually thought that Harry might have the secret of Horcruxes at the ready for him. How amusing that for even a second they should both be sitting there wanting what was locked away in the other's mind Harry thought ironically. Tom looked back at his paper. "I'm surprised you were able to find anything at all honestly, it's a banned subject at Hogwarts."

Harry looked at the dying fire with a feeling of trepidation. Whatever Tom's new pet project was it was a banned subject and miserably complicated by the sound of it, still the restriction section had never failed him yet. He would just have to find out what he could about Horcruxes.

Transfiguration was first period Harry went to it with a kind of dread. He spent the majority of the class looking down at his table, avoiding Dumbledore's eyes. Thankfully their assignment kept them doing just that. They were meant to be turning side tables into children's wading pools and when it came time to transfigure the water that filled them it actually became a tricky business. Transfiguring something into water was an entirely different matter from charming it into existence and out of the corner of his eye, with only five minutes left on the clock he spotted Malfoy whispering "Augamenti" under his breath and looking around shiftily.

When at last it was lunch time, Harry went straight past the great hall where the rush of students was surging and went straight to the library. Tempting though the smell of chicken sandwiches was he wanted to take the opportunity to have quick look around the restricted section without being seeing. He checked out a stack of books, all on promising dark arts subjects hoping that somewhere, the term horcrux might be tucked away. He carried them around heavily in his bag until dinner and it was with an empty stomach that he skipped that as well, rushing back to the dormitory so that he might get a start on them. They were all of them, very large and very wordy and he didn't much cherish the idea of being up until four o'clock sorting through them. He took a seat close to the fire and pulled on of the green shaded desk lamps on the table closer to him.

He skimmed through the first volume, crinkling his nose every few pages at the gruesome description before having a go at the index in the second book. A clock of the mantelpiece ticked steadily on and Harry glanced up at it half way down one of the yellowed pages and was slightly surprised. It was nearly eight o'clock and he was the only person sitting in the common room. Dinner must have run very late or else some new commotion must have occurred.

He was relived when the portrait hole cracked open ten minutes later and students began trickling in until he noticed that most of them whispering excitedly. A sense of worry stole through him and when Malfoy and Lestrange appeared just before curfew Harry snapped his book shut and walked over to them, feeling that they could perhaps shed some light on the mystery.

Malfoy was discussing something animatedly and when Harry sat down his pale gaze flicked onto him shrewdly. " What's going on?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low.

Malfoy searched his face for a moment before drawling, " You haven't heard?" Harry hadn't heard anything of course, but he didn't need to, to know that whatever was making Malfoy look so smug was bound to be something bad.

Harry shook his head. " No, I've been here finishing up my reading. What's happened?"

Malfoy leered happily and Lestrange leaned toward him with a hiss " A mudblood was attacked before dinner, Potter."

Harry pretended to look surprised but he couldn't quite hide the rush of fear that flooded him. " What?"

Lestrange laughed in that manic way he sometimes did. " Up on the fourth floor!"

Harry pretended to think it was funny. " You're kidding! Who?"

Malfoy's were now nearly wet and shinning with suppressed laughter, no doubt delighted to have someone to share this with. "Dumbledore's pet project, Minerva McGonagall."

Harry felt a strange shock hearing her name said aloud and for one wild second he remembered how Professor McGonagall had cried when he had Ron had tried to sneak in to see Hermione after she had been petrified. He had never known the she had once been petrified herself. Something clicked into place. Harry laughed hollowly but that seemed to be enough to please Grodisius and Lestrange.

"Of course I've heard she isn't really a mudblood at all," Malfoy added musingly, "They say her mum was a witch but that her father was some kind of stern muggle vicar."

Lestrange blew out laughing, "Even worse then."

"But why? " Harry asked, forcing a grin.

Malfoy and Lestrange looked at each other and Harry could tell that they had saved their best news for last. " That's just it Harry." Malfoy savored the moment. " The girl, she was kind of rigid, it didn't look like she had been cursed- and the writing on the wall, which they say she wrote herself said-" He and Lestrange shared another malice filled look, "- that said the Chamber of Secrets had been opened." Grodisius looked at him lazily as though he had just told a very funny joke so Harry pretended to look exited and shocked at the same time, unfortunately feeling that it made him look slightly impaired.

"Well that doesn't mean that it's true." Harry countered, knowing very well that it was but looking for something to say.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed with barely suppressed delight "Whatever attacked McGonagall, Dumbledore couldn't fix it."

Lestrange nodded his head as though he too knew this to be fact and Harry wondered what kind of catastrophe dinner had turned into when the news had broke. "Definitely dark magic, Potter." He agreed, his eyes ticking back to Malfoy's again and this time Harry thought he saw something hidden in the look.

"That's pretty strange." he conceded, "But I'm sure there are some spells that even Dumbledore doesn't know about. They'll be able to fix her."

Lestrange shrugged. "Everyone knows Dumbledore is a muggle loving fool, but no one would say he isn't powerful. I think if it were a matter of using some fifth year magic, he would have already fixed the girl."

Harry looked at the both of them nervously, before asking the obvious, curious to see what they might know about it. "Yeah alright, but if the chamber is really open, doesn't that mean that somebody had to have opened it?

"That would be the heir of Slytherin Potter," Malfoy drawled, "lord, sometimes I forget how new you are."

"Do you have any idea who it is then?"

Malfoy deflated a little, and Lestrange shook his head bitterly. "No clue, I'm sure it was a Slytherin though." Lestrange looked around them, 'They could be in this common room right now. I wish they would just come out and admit they did it, I'd be willing to give them a hand."

Malfoy grinned nastily. Harry was about to start speculating with them, just to see if they might bring up Tom's name when he was interrupted by the arrival of Professor Slughorn and the room suddenly quieted. Tom who had entered behind him picked his way through the crowd toward them somberly.

"Alright, sit down you lot and be quiet, I've got a lot to say." Slughorn called loudly, looking quite a bit less jovial then he usually did. Harry could see why; it certainly did look like a member of his house was responsible for attacking a fellow student. Harry moved over on the couch to give Tom somewhere to sit, his eyes on professor Slughorn.

Malfoy laughed whispered in his ear, "I bet he has something to talk about! Here's your proof Harry."

Professor Slughorn cleared his throat. "As many of you may already know, there was an incident of extreme violence reported tonight in the fourth floor corridor." There were titters from around the room and Harry felt numb. "I'm sure that the last half hour has been long enough for a myriad of rumors to begin circulating about the 'Chamber of Secrets' and I assure you, there is no such thing. You are all perfectly safe from legendary monsters."

Lestrange snorted. " Well yes, _we_ are."

"That does not however, excuse the behavior of the perpetrators." He stared blatantly at the crowd of Slytherin students, his stern pudgy faced expression was almost comical. "We still have one petrified student, and a missing caretaker. Might I remind you that it was Slytherin's name on the wall and not Ravenclaw's! Therefore, whether it is fairly deserved or not the natural suspicion of the school rests on each of you."

A silence had descended and Harry's heart was beating a tattoo against his chest. _A missing caretaker. _What were the odds that the first attack would coincide so perfectly? A tiny, mutinous part of his brain was humming. Horrible and repugnant as it was Harry realized suddenly that he was going to get away with it. The missing caretaker was going to be blamed on the heir of Slytherin.

"The headmaster has asked that any Slytherin student with information come forward." He stopped talking and looked at them all sadly. "That's all I have to say for now tonight. I urge you all to be on your best behavior. For now, good night." He gave them all one last almost disappointed look and Harry watched him go with a feeling of relief. Talk gradually returned, filling the common room with it's chatter.

The next day at breakfast Harry chewed his pancakes sullenly. Malfoy was sitting across from him, alert as a greenhorn at harvest, and talking to him incessantly. The news that the Chamber of Secrets had opened had gotten into everyone's blood and the table was much more animated than it usually was before classes started.

"Mumrrmm?" Harry groaned, trying to keep his eyes open as Malfoy looked at him, apparently waiting for his response to a question.

Malfoy sneered at him, "God Potter, have a coffee why don't you?" and was lured away by a Slytherin girl with big teeth. Harry took advantage of the silence to lay his head in his hands and imagine he was still in bed.

Harry lifted his head as Tom took Malfoy's vacated seat, sighing and pouring the advised cup of coffee. "Hello, Tom"

Tom, too looked full of life. He opened his mouth and then shut it again surprised, observing, "You look awful, Potter."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, it's this sleep thing, where I don't remember to do it." He sipped from his mug lightly. "What were you going to say before you caught sight of the bags under my eyes?" he asked.

Tom rearranged his silverware. " I was actually going to ask you to do me a favor, Harry but of course," he paused strategically, taking in the state of Harry's fatigued face with a smirk before trailing off, "if you aren't fell well enough-"

Harry cut him off. "Will it get me out of first period?"

Tom smiled silkily. "Probably not. No actually, I was wondering if you were still getting along well with Dumbledore?"

Harry blinked, surprised. "Well enough I guess."

"I hoped so. I was thinking possibly the next time you were alone with him, you might try picking his brain about this Chamber of Secrets business. I would like to know what he thinks about it, he is a very clever man after all."

Well that was interesting. Harry was sure the disappearance of the caretaker must have been quite a little surprise to Tom, it was really that surprising that he would want to have his ear to the ground. " So you want me to spy?" Harry asked.

Tom immediately withdrew. "No, of course not, I was merely curious."

"Alright, I'll ask him the next time I talk with him but I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't share anything with me."

Tom looked a little irritated, but hid it well, He got what he wanted after all.

" So," Harry asked, "What have _you _heard about the chamber?" He tried not to show his awareness though it seemed that he didn't need to. Perhaps Tom was more in tuned then most people were, because he raised and eyebrow.

" I've _heard _a lot but to be honest I wouldn't listen much to the rumors if I were you."

Harry lowered his voice. "Any idea who's behind it?"

Tom shrugged, though Harry noticed there was something cruel looking about his mouth. "That's just what makes it so interesting Harry, I suppose it _could_ be anybody."

Harry smiled darkly as the bell rang. "But it's not anybody, is it?" The both stared at each other for a moment, Harry knowing Tom was guilty and Tom's gaze not bothering to deny it, before the tension broke and they had to head off to class.

Unfortunately, Transfiguration was first, and Harry tired and nervous, took a seat without enthusiasm. It was funny that Tom wanted Harry to talk to Dumbledore when Dumbledore was the last person Harry wanted any contact with. Since Harry had made the decision to do whatever was necessary to get back to his own time he had been operating under a new set of rules and Harry had the keen idea that this Dumbledore, even knowing the full story would not be fond of his new outlook. If anything he might even try to stop him, and the idea of being held up, especially now that he had been here so long and sacrificed so much put a knot in his stomach.

Harry thought for a moment, although it might have simply been his own paranoia, that he could feel Dumbledore's gaze upon him as he began to lecture. Harry took every care to take notes and keep his eyes cast down. When he did finally look up to check something on the board he wished immediately that he hadn't. As though by magic or simply because he had forbidden himself, he felt himself look at Dumbledore. In the flash of a second Harry could tell that the chamber opening had saddened him. His look was unusually grave and tight, almost suspicious, as though Dumbledore thought that the whole of Slytherin house was guilty. He knew because of conversations he would have with the older Dumbledore that he had known all along that it was Tom who had opened the chamber but now, a new and terrifying thought struck him. What if he thought that he, Harry was helping Tom, what if he thought they were in it together? Harry quickly looked down.

The rest of the class around him was stirring. They had been assigned to spend the rest of the class transfiguring chairs into poodles. Over the noise of his shifting classmates Harry wedged himself in next to Tom and dropped his voice into a low Parsletongue whisper. "He thinks it's you and he thinks I helped you."

Tom looked at him, obviously surprised that he would use Parsletongue in public, of course Harry was sure he was probably unused to students suddenly speaking snake to him. Harry however did not want anyone to overhear and he considered this his best option because tom had a way of disappearing in the evenings. Tom leaned down on the pretense of inspecting his chair, his face calculating. "How do you know?" he hissed back sounding skeptical.

Harry looked back at Dumbledore, squinting. He was talking to a student now and Harry felt sure he was not paying attention to them. " I just do, trust me. I can tell by his face."

Tom was not looking at him but he could tell he was hanging on his every word. "Why does he suspect you?"

Harry grinned a little inwardly. "Well why does he suspect you?"

Tom didn't even have time to look guilty. He jumped immediately into an excuse. " He's never trusted me."

Harry's grin grew a little bigger. "Why not ?" He twirled his wand and his chair began to elongate and grow a tail.

Tom frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You know just as well as I do." Harry shook his head. "You'd have to have Slytherin blood to open the chamber, obviously, but my bet is you need to be a Parslemouth as well, and as it's not me, that really only leave one other-"

Harry stopped talking. Tom's look was perfectly pleasant but there was something about the shade of his eyes that seemed to promise murder. "Aren't you going to finish that sentence, Harry?" he asked.

Harry collected himself and gave him his most fearless look. "Do I look like I'm going to turn you in?" Harry gave the chair fur, thinking very hard. "Because I won't, besides it actually makes sense you'd go for McGonagall." Harry paused for a second. "Didn't she have a huge crush on you?" Harry added ears to his new poodle and then plunged recklessly on, "What I don't get is the caretaker. Why take him out?"

Tom was giving him a look that Harry could not read, almost as though something had just occurred to him. In fact he was looking at Harry as though he had never really seen him before and it was very unnerving. Harry shot him a fast and uneasy look before giving his dog paws. He noticed that Tom hadn't denied it. A moment later, as Harry was working on removing the back rest, Tom spoke up again.

"You found it didn't you?"

For some reason Harry's heart was in his throat. " Found what Tom?"

"The Chamber."

Not only was Tom's tone velvety and disbelieving but he had in a way, just openly admitted that he himself knew where to find the chamber of secrets. Mentally Harry steeled himself feeling that he what he had thought was a field had just turned out to be a pond covered with thinning ice and he was too far across to turn back.

Tom continued, "When you got in that fight with Allen, I thought you might have, but when you never went back I figured you must have over looked it. After all, who would have guessed it would be in a girls bathroom." Tom looked as though he was thinking about something, trying to piece it all together. After a moment he looked oddly satisfied.

Harry thought it best not to lie. "On the sink."

Tom smiled coldly. " I see."

Harry didn't know what it was that he could see but he suspected it did not bode well for him. "You trust me when I say I won't say anything?" Harry asked, a little unsure of how the conversation had changed so drastically.

Tom finished adding color to his poodle. "I _know you _won't." he said. Harry spent the last minutes of class wondering if that had been a threat or an expression of confidence.

By the time the bell rang ending last period, Harry felt as though a small weight had been lifted off his chest. He was, however recklessly, one step closer in the right direction. This was a very good thing too because he still had made no progress in discovering what exactly a horcrux was. He had been through so many books that he was beginning to toy with the idea of asking a teacher and he fervently wished he had just a little more to go on because if it turned out a horcrux was a dark weapon he was going to land himself in very suspicious waters.

The idea had come to him in that day in defense against the dark arts. Professor Marvel had been particularly upset and distracted looking which Harry had realized with a heave was probably his own fault- had had forgotten that she and Augustus had been having an affair until he noticed how pale and terrified she looked. The idea of asking her what a horcrux had crossed his mind briefly but then she took her seat shaking and wan and had told them to take notes from the textbook. Harry highly doubted she would tell him anything about a dark object. In the end he decided it would have to be Professor Slughorn.

Slughorn was by no means a dark wizard but he had a cloying way of pampering his favorite students and Harry couldn't help but feel that if he played it exactly right, theoretically even, Slughorn would end up talking. He would simply have to make it sound as though he was researching Horcruxes for a report.

That night by the fire Harry resolved to catch him before the weekend and see if he could get Slughorn in a talking mood. He had cracked open a new stack of forbidden books and was poring over them tiredly. The only thing that gave him hope was that Tom had found out about them somehow and Tom had been raised in a muggle orphanage which meant he had most certainly first come across them at Hogwarts.

Harry gently closed his eyes, feeling the heat of the fire and the aches in all of his poorly rested limbs. Horcruxes, Horcruxes, would he ever have the chance to sleep properly again?

He was standing in an attic, moonlight pouring in. He knew this place! But he wasn't supposed to be here was he? Something dimly told him that he was supposed to be reading. The air was soft and floral like summer and Harry felt himself once again being guided to the door, and he let his feet carry him there. He was once again at the top of the stairs and there was the moonlight, pale and aquatic as ever. He descended as he knew he was supposed to do and found himself in the foyer. The smell of the flowers in the vase and- the front door. He had never noticed that before and Harry hesitated, inclined to believe that if he opened it he might be able to step out of this dream in it's entirety but there were voices. Soft incessant chatter just down the hall and through the French double doors and Harry knew that was where he would go, that was where this dream was leading him. Soft, hissing voices…

He awoke suddenly, sweating and disoriented still sitting in the common room. His robes were tangled around him from slouching and the fire was making him feel feverish. What had woken him? Slowly Harry came to realize that the hissing voice from his dream was still audible

"No usse talking to me, who caresss what I know? Undervalued asss always." Harry looked around the deserted common room.

" Cronk?" Harry asked, his voice horse with sleep.

"Master?" The voice responded expectantly.

Harry sat up, his eyes hurt and his nose was so stuffy that he was forced to breathe through his mouth. Sleeping on the chair had been a terrible, neck cricking idea.

Cronk slithered out from behind his chair. Harry looked down at him vaguely surprised and perhaps even pleased. "What're you up to Cronk?" Harry asked, rubbing his neck and swallowing hard over his dry throat.

" Oh, this and that." He replied in his slithering way. Harry suppressed a smile.

Harry swallowed and surveyed the dying fire, several different thoughts carving paths in his mind. After a moment Harry asked, "Tom been keeping you busy?"

Cronk went quite still for a moment and Harry bit his lip. Cronk wound himself up into a thick coil " I really ssshouldn't say."

Harry withdrew. "I don't mean to pry."

The snake shook it's head. " You are very kind master, we all pry, itss in our naturesss."

Harry shook his head wonderingly. "Only you Cronk."

"What do you mean Master?" Cronk asked, staring at Harry, his eyes as wide as they could be, dark and lethal.

"Nothing Cronk, It's late." Harry admitted, he was beginning to feel son tired it was rather like being ill.

"Yes it is, I'm sorry if I have disssturbed you."

Harry stood up. " Of course not Cronk."

The snake seemed to swell with pride. "Master!"

Harry turned to go up to the dormitory, the idea that had been blossoming finally blooming. "Hey Cronk?"

"Yes master?"

Harry trembled, feeling slightly feverish. " Could you see if Professor Slughorn is in his office at about ten tomorrow?"

The snake slithered a little closer and bobbed hesitatingly. " Of course Master."

Harry nodded, coughing, he felt suddenly very cold. " Could you meet me outside the potions dungeon at quarter past ten?"

"Yes Master."

"Thanks." Harry muttered, heading up to bed. Tomorrow he was going to move himself one step closer to his goal even if it killed him.

0o0o

I did say that this chapter sets the stage for the next one, which is going to be pretty good hopefully and will carry over to Christmas break. Thanks again for the feedback guys, it makes a huge difference. I apologize again and again for the slow update rate!


	16. The Questions and the Questioned

Hey all. So what some of you may have started to notice by reading my many author notes is that I am a liar. I tell you that I will post something. Then I don't. Like a liar. One of the biggest things that was supposed to be in this chapter mysteriously isn't. It will however, be in the next post. That is a promise. This one just got too long on me and to put all the parts that I wanted in it would have made it Tolstoy huge. The result is that it is mainly filler leading up to some of the later chapters. If it's boring then I offer many apologies, I'll have my new update on here soon. I've been sick all week and therefore on my computer but also terribly unproductive.

I do have a question to pose in the meantime. Im starting to wonder if I should change the rating on this story to M? I have had a few PM's to that effect (murder and general wickedness seems to be the main problem.) I'm very curious to see what the majority thinks. As always, I'm all ears. Lying ears of course.

0o0o

Harry took the dormitory steps two at a time, sniffing; he felt terrible. He threw himself on his bed, colliding accidentally with his bedside table and even as Harry listened the drawer loosened and his quills and ink smashed to the floor. He lay there a moment counting breaths and willing himself to ignore the damage before he sat up reluctantly, rubbing the knee that had smashed into the table and wincing. Pitching himself on to his side, fully aggravated he began to grope about. His hands collided with his quill, now sticky with the offending ink and something else- something cold.

Harry paused and then lifted it closer, unable to guess what it might be and feeling all the more suspicious of it. He brought it towards his face squinting in the dark and when that still cast no light on the mystery he conjured up some of his own. "Lumos."

It was a necklace and for a moment Harry drew a floundering blank, unable to guess what it could be doing there. Then he remembered. He had found it the night someone had killed the snake and strung it up. He had pulled it off the body before anyone else arrived and here it was, still in his room and largely unexamined, as prophetic and puzzling as ever.

Harry had completely forgotten about the necklace just as surely as he had never worked out who had killed the snake. A creeping, nagging edge of disgust and panic seemed to swell in his chest at his own uselessness. Harry slung the necklace over his head and sighed as he felt the metal on his chest sting with chill like a promise. He needed to be more clever, more cunning or he was going to be swallowed by this reality. He closed his eyes and at some point his body must have relaxed and melted from worry to sleep. On the floor the ink he had spilled was left undisturbed, drying into a molten puddle.

The next morning Harry was literally forced to pull his head, sodden and stuffy nosed from his pillow and nothing less than promising himself he would go to Slughorn was enough to tempt him from his bed. His throat had taken on a kind of soreness throughout the night that had nothing to do with sleeping uncomfortably and everything to do with illness. He dressed dizzily, leaving the necklace on, taking great pains to insure it was concealed. He knew that leaving it on had an edge of something decidedly crack pot reckless about it but he couldn't seem to force himself to part with it. Saturday had arrived at last and with it came a nearly empty common room as the last days of sunshine had driven nearly all of the Slytherins up several stories and into  
the light.

Tom was sitting in one of the more comfortable chairs with a boy Harry recognized as a fifth year people called Lazard. Harry was not surprised to see that even the prospect of fair weather and freedom had not lured Tom to the grounds. Harry chanced a quick glance at the clock on the mantle to see that it was nine o'clock and that Tom looked sour. With a rush of pleasure, Harry realized that Lazard was either poor company or he had failed Tom in something because the air of tension was palpable all the way over by the boys dormitory stairs. Lazard was wincing into his chair and Tom's face was unfathomable in the poor dungeon lighting.

Masking a chuckle Harry ducked through the portrait hole. He liked that Tom was busy. It gave him more time to solicit Slughorn in peace. The dungeons were damp and chilly as ever and walking through them seemed to bring out a particularly nasty side of his sore throat. By the time he reached Slughorn's office he felt as though he had been running cold weather laps.

Leaning against the wall by the door Harry propped his bag up on an antiqued bench next to him and began to riffle through it. He had brought homework with him which in a flash of genius the day before he had botched on purpose so that he might have an excuse for visiting Slughorn in the first place. Harry extracted the failing essay and tried to fix his face into a mask of something that resembled earnestness. A vague rustling sound from just by his feet startled him. "Masssster?"

Harry tried not to jump and tread on the snake underfoot. "Morning Cronk. Is he in there?"

Cronk flicked his tail and it landed with a rather unsavory smack on the stone floor. "Yess, he is in his office master, working on papersss."

Harry mulled this over. "Good, that means he will probably be happy for a distraction." Harry adjusted his books and his tie. "Thanks a bunch Cronk." He meant it too. Knowing what he was walking in on was perhaps his one advantage.

Cronk grinned in his off-putting serpentine way. " You aree mosst welcome."

Harry started toward the door, when a thought occurred to him and faltered. " Hey Cronk?"

The snake stopped and slithered a circle to turn around where he starred up at him unblinkingly. "Yesss?"

Harry paused. " Keep this just between us?"

The snake didn't hesitate. "Of course master."

"Come in!" Slughorn called after Harry's first knock. Harry straightened his robes and stepped in, the picture of model student.

Slughorn looked up and Harry thought he saw the ghost of a wince. Apparently the memories of the love potion Harry had slipped him hadn't quite faded yet. "Ah, Harry!" Slughorn put down his pen.

Harry closed the door behind him and walked toward the desk. Professor Slughorn squirmed with distinct and guilty looking uneasiness. "Good Morning Professor, I hope I'm not interrupting you?"

Slughorn smiled warmly, the traces of nervousness dropped from his fleshy jowls by a fraction. Apparently manners and the prospect of putting off grading papers was enough to keep him from asking Harry to come back sometime tomorrow. "Of course not my boy, sit down!"

He pulled out a chair with a swish of his wand and Harry took it. "Sir, if you don't mind, I was just working on your potions assignment and I don't think I really understand."

Professor Slughorn chuckled. "Well, many a great wizard has had to ask for help with his sleeping droughts before this, you know."

Harry shrugged his shoulders glumly, " I suppose," he paused to look disappointed in himself before adding, "I'm sure you don't have to ask for help, sir."

Slughorn puffed up. " Now, now," he said shaking his finger scoldingly, though Harry thought he looked quite pleased with himself, "I didn't just wake up and find myself a professor without years of work and practice. You'll come to understand. Especially with brains like yours, you're a natural!"

"I'm sure I will, but," Harry put the piece of parchment down on the table. " Would you mind?" He paused pretending to look hesitant. " I'm sure you could help if you would just look over it." Slughorn clucked his tongue and pulled the piece of parchment toward him. Harry watched the paper cross the length of the desk and continued "Thank you professor, this is a relief. I have a lot to get through this weekend."

Professor Slughorn looked up from his intentionally scratched at work and studied him appreciatively. " You look a little under the weather my boy, perhaps you should see the Madame."

Harry pretended to toy with the idea. " I'm sure Ill be fine professor. Its only that I'm so busy."

Slughorn smiled, clearly under the impression that Harry was putting up some kind of brave front. "Well if there is anything I can do Harry, anything at all? A pepper up potion perhaps?"

"No, no pepper up potion thanks, but actually, there might be something you could do to help."

Slughorn shrugged noncommittally, "That's what Im here for Mr. Potter. Lets hear it."

Harry looked up at the shelves behind Slughorn, studying the shapes of things in jars that had been pickled into unrecognizable oblivion suddenly fearing to meet Slughorn's eyes. He was taking a reckless leap in doing this… "It's nothing really. I shouldn't be so concerned about it. It's just that I'm doing an extra credit project for Professor Marvel-"

Slughorn's face had suddenly changed. His features were no longer smiling indulgently but had become a set of sharp angles all suddenly watching him far more astutely then they usually did. Harry stopped talking all at once feeling panicky.

Slughorn worked his tongue over his teeth as though considering him. " Working with Tom are you? The project on the dark arts. On Horcruxes." His voice was tight and snapped like chalk when he finished his sentences.

Harry had a hard job of working to make himself look unsurprised. Working with Tom? No he wasn't.. It was a split second before Harry could properly sort this out so that it made sense but when he finally managed it it was interesting. Tom must have visited Slughorn himself to ask the very same questions Harry was asking. Of course this meant that there probably wasn't much to be found in the library on the topic horcruxes and in a bizarre way this made Harry feel a little better about his complete lack of progress there himself. Harry steeled himself wearily. Now that Slughorn had openly brought up Tom's name they were walking on very fine ice. "I haven't been working with him actually, Tom is pretty solitary about his school work. I suppose professor Marvel must have assigned it to us both."

Slughorn was looking in Harry's direction but his eyes seem to dart here and there so that Harry felt it was a more as though Slughorn were looking at anything but him. "Well you know, wizards of a certain caliber, I can see why she might have thought it would be interesting for you, but no, Im sure Professor Marvel never meant any harm-" Slughorn trailed off still looking fidgety and nervous. Finally Slughorn cleared his throat and said more brusquely, "Well what is it I can do to help you?"

Harry shrugged, "Just a bit of an overview if you don't mind. The library really doesn't have any material on Horcruxes."

Slughorn sighed, "As it rightly shouldn't. Well, as you probably know, a horcrux is a way of magically concealing a part of your soul within an object."

Harry had not known that and now that he did he almost wished he didn't. He was fighting against the edge of some dawning realization and while it had not quite hit him yet he was waiting almost horror struck. "How-" he finally asked, "How does a person do that?"

Slughorn look agitatedly over his shoulder as though he expected to find another member of staff leering there. He swatted the air in aggravation, "There is a spell. Do not ask. I do not know it."

Harry was watching the professor unblinkingly, he sat up a little straighter, feeling numb, "Oh, of course not sir." There was one more question eating at him however, "Sir, why would someone want to use one? A horcrux that is?"

Slughorn was tapping his quill in a fevered pattern on his desk clearly counting the moments until he would be free of the conversation Harry had trapped him in. He stopped however and nodded. " Well, there are many reasons, but I  
think that the idea of immortality is the perhaps what most most find appealing."

Harry let out a long still breath, not quite trusting himself to speak. It was all crashing together into a terribly clear picture. A Voldemort who never died. A Voldemort who could return from death, who had withstood a killing curse, a Voldemort that even Dumbledore was not able to kill. Harry tumbled over each thought, examining them like ill-begotten jewels. Dumbledore! Did Dumbledore know about this? Surely not or he would have told Harry…but could Harry really believe that? Dumbledore who knew everything, who had turned over ever piece of evidence in Harry's life and rifled about in the darkness concealed underneath. No, Harry decided, the modern Dumbledore must have at least guessed at this. A sick, hot swoop of anger licked his insides souring the fear that was already gathering there.

"What sort of questions did Tom ask you?" Harry asked quietly.

Slughorn frowned at him, his sweaty hands still curled around his eagle feather quill. "Oh only what you asked me. I'll tell you what," Slughorn dropped the quill and seized Harry's homework assignment off the table. "Ill pardon you this homework assignment. Why don't you go and compare your work with Tom yourself?"

Harry stood. Slughorn was entirely done being questioned and he had already found out more then he ever could have hoped for. He pushed in his chair. " Thank you Professor."

Slughorn was already pulling his papers out, " Anytime Harry!" His face betrayed him however. It looked like he meant just the opposite.

The hallway was deserted and cool and once Harry has gotten away from the office door he leaned up again the wall and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He had just discovered something- something huge but Harry was certain that when he opened his eyes he would still be in the Hogwarts of his forefathers. He wasn't home yet, there was something more for him to discover and that was a daunting prospect. Harry's stomach growled and he figured it must be about lunch time and as he was starving. When he reached the great hall and sat down he helped himself to a bit of everything vigorously and ate the biggest meal he had managed in days. After all, why not? The way he figured it it certainly looked like he was going to be around long enough to starve.

The weekend hurtled by, much like the snow that continued to lash at the windows. Harry spent most of it in the common room with his homework, treating the dark leather chairs and warm fire like a kind of fortress, his nose runny and his head sore. In the end it turned out that he did indeed have a lot of homework, and he was secretly thankful that he didn't have to do the potions assignment he had spent so long botching on purpose. Rumors about the chamber of secrets still hung thick as a storm wherever the Slytherins congregated and Harry actually found himself half absorbed in a very cleverly constructed story about how moaning Myrtle had finally cracked and begun attacking muggle born students before he remembered that in the end she would be the heir's final victim.

By the time Monday arrived Harry was not only blissfully finished with all of his homework but had more then gotten over his cold and had more than a half of a shot at spending the day in a good mood. When he arrived at breakfast, more out of habit then need, he propped up one of his books on wizarding genealogy against a juice jug and scanned it idly, helping himself to toast.

"Oy, Harry," Lestrange barked over the eggs. " If I really, really needed a really boring book would you lend me yours?" He began to laugh as he slung himself into a seat.

Harry flipped the book closed, thinking this was a close to a greeting as he would ever get. "Good morning to you too, Lestrange." Harry pushed the muffins toward him but Lestrange continued to grin in a way that spelt trouble. "What?" Harry asked tersely.

"I was just talking to Lazard-" Lestrange chuckled strangely and Lazard who was sitting several seats down looked up from his breakfast to leer at them. "We've been talking about the first quidditch match of the season and we have decided to open up our pool and collect bets."

Harry sighed, knowing that by 'collecting' he probably meant bullying first years for sickles. "I haven't got any extra betting money."

Lestrange wrinkled his nose, "Like hell you don't. Your last name is Potter isn't it? That means you've got to have at least one relation and Ive never heard of any of the Potters being desperate for spending money."

Dangerous waters. Harry shrugged and changed the topic, "Iv'e never seen the Slytherins play a match." Oh lies.

Harry knew once he had said it however that he would end up regretting it. Lestrange gave up with a scowl wondered off to find Malfoy and Harry watched him go feeling a pang of annoyance. Malfoy, who had once tried to break into a record keeper's office in an attempt to hand him over information about him to Tom and who lived life by his perpetual sneer had developed a strange habit of seeking Harry out between classes to discuss his superior quidditch tactics.  
The prospect of spending his day beleaguered by Malfoy was enough to turn his path to Transfiguration for first period in a practice in the arts of stealth. He reached the classroom without a minute to spare and chose the seat as far away from Malfoy's sleek blonde head as he could. Even from the far side of the classroom he saw Mafoy's nose pull up in a sneer at him as though he could smell fear.

Dumbledore's face was harder to read, long and kindly as always but more burdened with worry than Harry was accustomed to seeing in his future self. The seat to his right scraped as it was pulled out and the rest of the class filed in. Tom raised an eyebrow as he pulled out a sheaf of parchment and Allen Weasley took the seat to his right. Harry bit his tongue, determined to keep his head down and ignore any aggravation from Ron's future uncle or was he a grandfather- he really hadn't sorted out how the family tree might trickle down yet. Dumbledore presented them with teapots and asked each of them to attempt to turn them into owls before the class was over. Allen jabbed his teapot with his wand and shattered it promptly and Harry was reminded forcibly of Ron, the only difference being that he found it much less charming.

Within thirty minutes however Harry had managed to make something much like an owl, a fat squat one perhaps but an owl out of the teapot on his desk. His sense of pride was greatly reduced but the shrill hoots of Allen's feathered cookware monstrosity however, which was dashing across the desk, leaving a trail of feathers and china flakes in it's unseemly wake. With a great yelp of pain, Allen jerked back from his desk, three of his fingers bleeding from where they had made contact with the owls beak which was somehow, incredibly, steaming.

Tom let out a sigh of annoyance and said softly but not nearly silently enough to avoid Allen's hearing him, "Do us both a favor Harry and strangle Allen's bird. It would be a kindness to everyone."

Allen glanced over at the pair of them and quickly tried to stifle his bird- Tom chuckled unkindly when the thing vengefully bit him with it's steaming spout of a beak. Allen was whimpering pitiably and so Harry starred hard at him, trying to see the resemblance to Ron in his face before summoning Allen's bird to his desk and quietly finishing the job for him. Allen watched him sourly but waited for him to finish before muttering, "I don't need your help Potter."

Harry leveled a hard look at him, "Fine then. Next time you're getting molested by your transfiguration project Ill leave you alone."

Allen spluttered and for a moment looked like he might curse him but then Allen's eyes found Tom. Tom was still siting quietly, but something about the wintery look on his face made Allen back down. Harry went back to his essay, fighting down a spark of surprise.

Harry spent the rest of the day playing a strange game of cat and mouse with Malfoy. Just as Harry had feared, Malfoy had seized Harry's refusal to join their betting pool with a kind of grim vengeance. Try as Harry might there was really no thwarting him and by the time Harry was sitting down in last period History of Magic he had already endured what felt like an eternity of broom caparisons. Knowing professor Binn's trademark inattention of his class Harry feared he was facing another hour of it under whispered breaths.

"Of course, we both know what Weasley flies, so he isn't really a contender but-" Harry's head dipped toward his desk with boredom and exhaustion. Someone jabbed him hard in the ribs and he jolted back upright. Professor Binn's was going on as he usually did but Dumbledore was standing in the doorway of the classroom and looking at him. Malfoy raised his eyebrows in Harry's direction just as Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Professor I wonder if I might borrow Harry for a moment?"

Binns groaned to a halt, clearly thrown by the breakup of his normal routine. Harry hurriedly stood up, hoping to escape without making a scene but he could feel the eyes of every student on him as he walked toward the door. Dumbledore smiled as though to reassure him but Harry's heart was hammering in his chest. He was not used to lying to Dumbledore but he followed him down several sets of stairs nonetheless. Could Dumbledore know that Harry had gone to Slughorn to ask him about Horcruxes? What if.. Harry's thoughts turned toward the missing caretaker but it was almost as though his mind wouldn't allow him to fully comprehend the danger of having to talk to Dumbledore about Augustus and the role he had played there. No, Harry thought, nobody knew about his involvement with the caretaker. He attempted to crush his own fear, positive that it would show off his guilt far quicker than anything else.

Dumbledore opened the door to his office and Harry was startled to see how far they had walked in silence. " After you."

The room was lit by a well cared for fire which was cackling excitedly in the hearth as though it had just been recently stoked. Dumbledore sat down behind his desk so Harry took a seat keeping his eyes fixed on the hearth. Nothing was more important than keeping his composure. If he was about to lie to Dumbledore he was going to have to do a very good job of it.

Dumbledore steepled his hands in exactly the same way Harry had seen him do a hundred times. The look on his face was much less familiar, although it was as polite as Harry had ever seen it there was less warmth. Dumbledore sighed, "I'm very sorry to have disturbed you during class Harry but what I want to talk to you about is highly peculiar and so I thought it might best be done in the privacy of my office. I hope you will forgive me for being so intrusive today Harry but as I have already sent you a letter once that asking that you might come see me-"

Harry balked in sudden embarrassment. The letter that Dumbledore had sent him! How could he have forgotten? Harry blushed painfully. "Professor, I-"

"Naturally, with the bulk of your homework and the new adjustments you are making it does seem fitting that you might forget Harry. I understand completely." Dumbledore did that fiddling motion he sometimes did with his thumbs and waiting for Harry to stop looking so abashed. "I must ask however that you do not repeat what we will speak of here today."

Harry's sense of confusion was mounting but his fear of being accused of murder was blissfully receding. It seemed there was something else Dumbledore wanted to speak to him about and to Harry that was the most wonderful news in the world. "Er, of course."

"I do not know entirely what your life was like in your natural time Harry, I do not know how much you might know and I feel that history is kept straighter because I do not know these things."

"Er-"

"I can only hope that you knew little of your fellow students here before arriving and that you may remember nothing when you depart for your own correct time." Dumbledore was studying Harry intently now and he swallowed nervously meeting his gaze. "As I'm sure you do know our caretaker here has been missing for over a week."

Harry's stomach churned violently.

"On the very same night that he disappeared a set of files went missing." Dumbledore continued and there were more traces of that grave worry about his face now.

"What type of files?" Harry asked, desperate for anything that might take the conversation away from the missing caretaker.

"Files indicting student records, the names of students attending and in some cases who will be attending Hogwarts. Do you understand why this might concern you?"

Harry shook his head no even as he was quite certain he already knew the truth of it.

"Because Harry," Dumbledore was eyeing him with something like pity, "These records might indicate that though you are enrolled here, you were never meant to be, at least not yet. Imagine what a student might do, supposing they were clever enough to put the pieces together and guess the truth."

Harry could only think of one student that quick on his feet. Tom. "You mean they might guess that I'm actually from the future?" Harry asked lamely, feeling like a role in one of uncle Vernon's science fiction movies. "Why would anyone care so much?"

Dumbledore peered over his glasses at him. "Because Harry, you know the future. You will never find a Seer or a student of divination with more natural ability at predicting what is to come. This might make you very valuable or, alternatively as I suspect it may be, a risk."

"Well, that's a problem the I guess." Except that the papers had been confiscated from Malfoy and were in the caretaker Augustus's pocket and Harry was quite certain he wouldn't be giving up the secret anytime soon.

"I tell you this to warn you Harry, not to frighten you."

But he wasn't frightened. Summoning up all of the pleasantness that he could Harry tried to smile. "Thank you for telling me professor. I'll be sure to let you know if I hear anything else about it." Harry was halfway to the door before Dumbledore called out to him,

"Harry-" Their eyes met and instead of trying to block him because Harry suspected that would be pointless he tried to feel grateful, really and truly grateful. He thought of Lupin and how he had taught Harry to create a patronus. He though of his friends, he thought of returning home, he summoned his whole mind to it. Just one last step and he would be free. Dumbledore blinked and smiled, "Good night."

Harry was down three flights of steps before he realized why he felt so nervous, why he felt so low. It washed over him like a wave and it was almost as terrible as the act he had committed itself. It was because, Harry realized almost numbly, he was going to get away with murder. Harry struggled for a moment, feeling split in two. On the one hand, no matter what it took to get home despite the guilt, if he managed to return to his time every bad thing he had done would be wiped away and who knew, maybe by going to the past he would be better equipped to take on Voldemort in the present. On the other hand though, there was an emotion he was not as familiar with and it was a tickling thing, pricking at his insides like a funny joke he had only just remembered in a solemn and quiet place. Something suspiciously like pride.

0o0o

Ok, so the next chapter has at least one good chunk in it that isn't purely building up to something else. Thanks so much for the reviews! I love to hear what you guys be thinkin'!


	17. Dumbledore Sees Right Through Him

Ok, this chapter is short, but introduces some new stuff. I am sorry it took me so long to update. My next one will probably be longer. The next chapter has at least one very important scene, and it will effect the story. It is geting down to the point were I need to start andavncing the plot line. I have been, but I felt bad because I hadn't updated in a while. I am still working on the finer points of the ending, I have two ideas. So read and REVIEW.

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Harry was up early the next morning, in the common room, trying to beat away the cold that had suddenly seemed to penetrate the dungeons. Ha wasn't the only one who had reasoned that the common room would be warmer. Lestrange sat a few chairs down with a scarf pulled tightly around his face and a winter cloak on. Teed Flint sat shivering next to the fire place and a young girl was at the table nearest the fire finishing an essay for Professor Marvel. 

Harry had never felt the dungeons so cold, it was as though the stones walls had frozen and cracked and they had mounds of ice building up in a nearby corridor. To Harry's relief, no cracks had been found. Harry's stomach was growling and his head was beginning to hurt. The start of his day didn't look promising.

Harry walked toward the portrait hole, and slipped through. He might as well get some breakfast. Harry walked down the dark hallway with his robes billowing. It was frigging cold. Harry turned and walked up a staircase, and nearly ran smack into Tom, who had stopped and was reading a clipping from the daily prophet frowning. Harry stopped and nearly tripped on the hem of his thick robes. Tom looked up a little surprised. He too was wearing a winter cloak, but it wasn't nearly as thick and bulky as Lestranges.

Harry flashed his half smile. " What are you reading?"

Tom masked his displeasure about the article masterfully. " Oh nothing, someone at the ministry suing." he tucked the article away. "Harassment charges."

Harry nodded and they both walked up the staircase Tom, Harry noticed, didn't even come close to tripping over his cloak.

Tom tucked the clipping away, and straightened his robes. "So are you staying over Christmas?" Tom asked, looking as though he already knew the answer.

Harry laughed bitterly. " Were else would I go?" Harry gave him a look." My parents are both dead remember?"

Tom nodded. "I remember."

Harry feeling a little offended, trod on the end of his cloak and just avoided looking clumsy Harry could feel his blood pressure rising. This was going to be a hectic day. Harry scowled. " Aren't both of your parents dead as well?"

Tom nodded, and Harry noticed the trace of something unpleasant in his face. "Yes."

Harry wasn't thoroughly convinced. It looked like he knew something. Then Harry remembered that Tom would kill his own father in a year. He swallowed hard. Harry couldn't help himself, he wanted to know, and he felt brave. "How did they die?"

Tom seemed a little colder than usual, his form straighter and more ridged. "It's a long story."

Harry nodded, excepting him to drop it but he continued. "My mother was a witch, She died giving birth to me, my father disappeared." His tone was calm and confidant, as though he was talking about the weather.

Harry nodded. "So you don't really know about your father then?"

Tom smiled, but it did nothing to enhance his handsome features. "I'm sure I will bump into him someday."

Something about the statement bode ill, and Harry had to fight the supremely perverse urge to grin. That was just evil.

Tom seemed to find himself aftera second. The smile was gone, but his pun still hung on the air. " How did we start talking about this?"

Harry shrugged. " Christmas break?"

Tom frowned at him, obviously he hadn't actually wanted an answer.

At breakfast Malfoy finally caught up with him. He and Tom had walked into the hall and sat down, when Harry was suddenly ambushed. Malfoy had flung himself out of a group of Slytherin fifth years, and blocked Harry's passing with his body. Tom was grinning in a way that meant he knew what Harry was thinking. Harry tried to duck out of the way, but Grodsiusius grabbed his arm. "What are you doing on Saturday?"

Harry though wildly. What was he doing? He had to be doing something. "I'm...I'm..." Harry narrowed his eyes, "What do you want?"

"The first Quidditch match of the season Harry!" Harry sighed resignedly.

What did he have to do to get out of this? He would kill the care taker again to get out of this. "I have detention." He blurted out, his eyes level.

Malfoys shoulders fell. "Detention, on Saturday, who did this to you?"

Harry sighed, looking positively miserably. "Professor Dumbledore, he says that I need to concentrate."

Grodsiusius nodded, looking as though someone had given Harry the plague. "Ok, well, try to get out of it."

Harry nodded, and Grodsiusius began to walk away with his shoulders sagging. Harry turned around. "Does he have crush on me or something?" Lestrange shrugged. Tom looked like he was about to tell him that was ridiculous, when he reconsidered.

Lestranges brow was furrowed. "He really _did _want you to go to that match."

Harry frowned. " Well I hope he has a good time." Harry paused as the bell rang. " I have to go get detention."

Lestrange grinned. " Can I help?"

Harry walked with Lestrange to transfiguration, growing nervous as his plans grew more illegal. " We could murder a house elf." he suggested lightly.

Harry shook his head. " That's animal abuse, you can get in real trouble for that." Harry sighed. " Try to think of something close to legal."

"We could lock his bird in the room of requirement." He offered sinisterly, smiling rabidly.

Harry rubbed his head exasperated. "There you go with the animal abuse again!" Harry thought that was a little unnerving. He would certainly never buy Lestrange a pet cat. " What happened to almost legal."

Lestrange shrugged. " I actually think that is legal."

Harry sighed, he did think that was legal. He steered Lestrange into transfiguration. He just would stay in the castle during the game. Malfoy would never ask Dumbledore about it, he wouldn't have the nerve. Harry grinned sitting down between Tom, and Allen, who seemed to have lost his seat on the other side of the room. Harry sighed. Great.

Dumbledore gave Harry a long meticulous look before starting the lesson. He had barely managed a few sentences when Allen poked himself in the eye with his wand and yelped. Harry tried to smother his laughter. Dumbledore gave Harry a very strict look. Harry quickly stopped laughing, but his smile wouldn't die.

Allen slunk back in his seat blushing, one hand clasped over his red eye. Harry and Tom exchanged looks, smirking. Behind them, Harry heard Lestrange shaking with laughter. Allen looked as though he might say something, but thought the better of it as he was surrounded by Slytherins.

Dumbledore asked them all to turn their desks into armchairs. Harry made quick work of it, transfiguration came easily to him. He could have whistled while he worked. Allen sitting next to him certainly couldn't have.

He was smacking his wand down non the desk and yelling at it. Harry rolled his eyes. He continued to rap on the desk, and scream violently, and Harry hissed quietly . " Is he a squib?"

Tom looked up and just as he did, Harry heard a loud crack behind him. Harry turned around. Allen was holding his wand, broken in half, stuttering.

He tried to swish it, but instead of sparks a long jet of flaming liquid shot out the end of his wand and landed on the desks, harry roll of parchment burned up and Malfoy started screaming.

Harry's mouth fell open. Malfoy was on fire. Dumbledore had leapt froward and was busy working a spell, for a second later, water rushed out of the end of his wand. Malfoy fell to the floor moaning was sounded suspiciously like " My Hair!...My hair!"

Dumbledore peered over his half moon spectacles. "Can you stand?" He asked gently.

Allen was watching wide eyed with horror. " I..I didn't mean to, It was a..." He trailed off, unable to form words. Harry shook his head. "All he had done was caught him on fire. Harry had even caught Malfoy on fire before, the poor gut seemed to be unlock with flame. Harry just didn't see why Allen would be so horrified.

Dumbledore magic Malfoy to his feet, were he hovered an inch above the ground. There is to be no wand play while I am gone." He spoke in barely a whisper, but Harry was sure that everyone had caught every word. The second Dumbledore left the room, it grew very quiet. All eyes were on Allen, with his broken wand. Harry couldn't see how Allen couldn't feel the eyes of ever Slytherin around him on him. Allen kept his head won, and he began to write something on a piece of old parchment. Teed Flint leaned forward and practically hissed. "That better not be a letter to mom asking for a new wand."

Allen gulped, and the Gryffindors were all trying to see what was happening. "So what If I am Flint?"

Half of the Slytherin house exchanged looks, and Allen slowly put the parchment back in his bag.

Lestrange gave him a rather hard pat on the back. "There you go Weasley, no need to get hurt."

"Yet." Harry said softly next to him. Allens head jerked up and he looked at Harry as though he had seen death.

"Wh..What?"

Harry just grinned and Lestrange burst out into more laughter behind him.

By the time the bell rang, Allen looked pale, and he must have realized that without a wand he was unarmed, because he took off down the passage way like a cork rocketed out of a bottle. Harry laughed when he clipped the wall and turned away out of sight.

Harry jerked his thumb after him. "Can you believe it?"

At lunch, harry picked at his food, with humor. He was pouring himself more juice when he noticed the daily prophet in a sixth year girls bag.

Harry leaned over. " Excuse me."

She jumped and looked up at him in astonishment. "Umm, M..Me?"

Harry grinned. " Of course you."

The girl blushed deeply, and looked away, and then back again. " Can I help you." She asked, pulling her black hair out of her face timidly. Her plump cheeks still stained with pink.

Harry gave a trademark half smiled and watched the girl laugh nervously, obviously stunned that he would be talking to her. "Do you have a copy of this mornings daily prophet?"

She nodded, her eyes straying from his smiled to his Slytherin robes. "Could I borrow it?" He asked.

She laughed, and then covered her mouth, embarrassed. "Umm, sure." She reached into her bag and pulled it out. "It's it's a little crumpled, but..it's o..ok"

Harry grinned. "It's fine."

She smiled and quickly looked back down at her food "Thanks." He said.

Harry quickly began to read searching for the article. He found it at last. He tried to pull the bent page straight.

**Ministry Member Sues **

**Today The head record keeper for the Ministries official **

**library of records filed a complaint. The complaint was **

**said to have been regarding the increase of prank owls **

**sent to the libraries office. Letters that have been fully**

**credited to have information about the libraries secret**

**records. It is not known wether they will be deemed**

**dangerous, but until that time the secretary for the**

**library withholds comment _Continued on pg.88_**

Harry wanted to laugh but was afraid somebody would notice. So Malfoy hadn't stopped trying to get his hands on the records, and now he might be sued for harassment. Harry breathed in relief. The only two copies that were know of those records seemed to safe. One was in Agustiaus's transfigured pocket and the other was now evidence in a case against harassment to the ministry's head record keeper, whop Harry noticed with a small chuckled was referred to as the librarian, surely Malfoy had been enraged when he had read this. Though Harry knew Malfoy and he bet that he was more nervous about what Tom would do when he read it.

Dinner that night was an even. Half of the Slytherin house had nominated Harry to curse Allen when he walked by, and Harry finished his dinner quickly, he stole off to the library, thankful to have gotten away.

Harry went to the library, because he couldn't think of anywhere else to go. He sat down in some frustration. The library was dark and the torches were bright. Harry felt a shiver go up his spine from hr cold. He sat down, bored. What could he do? Harry scanned the selves. Books on counter curses, books on occlumency, books on jinxes and a book on...nothing, Harry's eyes rested on a large black leather book on the shelf. It hung out just a little to far and Harry could have sworn it was calling to him, sitting there, just for him. Harry reached forward, his hand longing to touch the leather, to pull it off the shelf and into his hands.

Harry grasped the binding and pulled it off. He held it in his hands Harry grinned sleepily. He wanted to open it, his mind was going foggy. Behind him he though something moved.

Harry heard footsteps. " I wouldn't open that if I were you." Harry didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Tom stood behind him, looking a little concerned and A little amused. Harry frowned. "It's in the restrained section for a reason."

Harry scowled at Tom. "So, that has never stopped you." Harry could feel the book burning in his hands.

"True, suite yourself." He said, walking over to a shelf. "But that particular book will burn you eyes out you know."

Harry dropped the book. He felt amazingly better, as though a spell had been lifted, his thoughts were much clearer. Harry reached down to pick up the book but tom quickly levitated it back onto the shelf. "That one is best left alone."

Harry sat down, feeling a little queasy and pulled out his bag. "How did you know that book burns peoples eyes out?" Harry asked rubbing his forehead.

Tom said nothing but flashed him a smiled that seemed to sum it up. Harry rubbed his forehead a little harder. He had finished his transfiguration essay, but he had a feeling that he might have botched up the spell, so he had made a new one, one that he was actually sure worked very well, he just didn't know how Dumbledore would feel about it. "Hey To, check my essay?" Harry asked, reclining in his chair.

Tom sat down and pulled the piece of parchment closer. Harry watched him for a moment. He frowned twice and then raised his eyebrows. Harry prepared for the worst, but Tom passed back the essay with out making one mark on it. "You've improved the spell."

Harry reread it. Np he hadn't he had just rewritten in . "No."

Tom nodded. "Yours is more accurate." Harry noticed that tom eyes were on his as he reread the essay.

Harry grinned. "Hey, no kidding."

Harry worked until the librarian kicked him out at eight thirty. He walked down the dark and eerie halls on his own. His scar had been twanging for the past two hours. Harry turned a corner and stopped in front of the window. He stared out at the lake, dark blue and frothy as the wind danced over it. Harry breathed in .It overcame him in a second. Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong here. Harry stumbled backward and began to walk down the corridor much faster, his robes making soft noses as he turned the corner. Harry had to stop short to avoid tripping over the body. He lay motionless, his eyes wide. He had fallen backward. The window in front of him was open a crack. Harry imagined he must have stopped to look out the window, as he had done. He was rigid and still. He must have see the basilisks reflection in the window. He was petrified and very familiar. Harry strained. He was one of Allens friends. One of the Gryffindors who had stood up to him in care of magical creatures. Harry stepped back when.

"POOTER, YOU..." Peeves stopped in mid song. His sharp little eyes bounced from Harry to the body on the floor.

"WHY POOTER!"

Harry whispered urgently. Peeves, look it wasn't..just let it go, alright.?"

Peeves gave him a long mournful look before bellowing "POOTER...IT WAS POOTER ATTACK ATTACK!"

Harry cast Peeves a murderous look before he zoomed away banging the suits of armor, making roughly the same amount of noise as a small atomic bomb. Harry closed his eyes and turned to run, but found his way blocked by the only professor who had come when Peeves began to yell.

Harry stared at professor Dumbledore before muttering as fast as he could. "Professor, it wasn't me, I didn't do it."

Professor Dumbledores eyes were not as soft as they had once been to him. Harry blinked, one question in his mind. Were had the twinkle gone?

* * *

I am aware that Peeves was calling him Pooter, that was not a typo. Anyway, I hope you liked. This idea came to me when I was watching Chamber of Secrets. That is were I get lots of ideas for this story. The fourth and the sixth have also been big with this story. So thanks for reading. Reviews would make me happy. 

Thanks to everone who reviewed my last chpater

ohyeah100


	18. Harry And the Ministry

Ok hi again. Woow, this one took me a while huh? I had a bit of wrtiers block, but it's april vacation which means I have possible time. Thank you to everybody who reviewed. This story is getting long and complicated so if anypne hads any questions feel free to email me. In this chapter I introduce a few charecters, I doubt you will like them and they hopefully will be gone by the end of the next chapter becasue I don't like them, but they are moving the story along. Harry gets a little darker which probably isn't new news. So read and review, because I would really like to know what people think about this chapter. Also my beta has retired so if anyone would like to beta for me I would have to kiss you (many a beta runs for the hills) ok so I won't kiss you but i'll be really really happy and the spelling and grammer of the story is porbably going to improve. Just let me know via review or email, whatever.

* * *

There were a number of thoughts racing through his mind. Most were obnoxious or indeed, very foolish, like turning on his heel and running. He forced his face into a mask of calm and stared at Dumbledore unblinkingly. He used every ounce of acquired trickery, and he tried his best to look innocent. Dumbledore looked a little torn. 

He blinked slowly, and what followed was in little more than a whisper. "Mr. Potter, what are you doing out of bed so late?" He stopping, looking sad. "Especially here of all places."

Harry blinked himself and straightened a little. " I was working late in the library professor."

Dumbledore was still staring at him. Harry had no choice but to look back, or else be assumed guilty. "Very Well." he mumbled, and Harry was taken aback by his expression. "Go to your dormitory, do not speak of this with your classmates."

Harry glanced down at the body on the floor, unsure of his name and allowed himself a small grin, he was going to be ok. Dumbledore watched him grin wearily. "Of course professor, I won't say anything." Harry tuned on his heel and swept down the corridor, aware that he had just had an near calamity. Dumbledore had let him go? Harry turned the corner and walked down a flight of steps. But why? He had appeared so guilty, he was guilty really, surely Dumbledore must have seen it. Harry felt frustration building up in him, It wasn't as though he wanted to be caught. Harry turned the next corner violently and felt something heavy hit him. Harry stumbled back, as what ever he had hit fell to the floor their blonde hair fanning out around them like a flower blossoming.

Harry sighed. " You should watch were your going." He stepped over the body and walked on, not bothering to give them a second thought. He strode through the dungeons, still unsure of himself. When he reached the common room he muttered the password, but the portrait did not open for him. Harry said it again, and still nothing.

Harry cleared his throat and in a near yell spoke "PURE BLOOD." Still the portrait refused to let his pass. Harry sighed deeply. He hated when things didn't work for him. Leaning against the wall Harry hoped against hope that the blonde he had felled was a Slytherin.

Harry was about to kick the portrait when it opened and Tom walked out looking up just in time to step aside to avoid being hit in the shins. "What are you doing out here?" He asked.

Harry gave him a cruel look. "Password changed?"

Tom looked surprised. "Conformance."

If there were something to pound on he would have. "Thank you!" He spat rather annoyed. Harry went straight up to bed, Ignoring Toms look of indigence. Harry changed and lay down as fast as he could. He lied there for sometime, listening to some of the other boys coming up to get something out of their trunks or lie down. Harry was beginning to feel better as he fell to sleep.

His momentary calm didn't last. Something in the dormitory stirred. "Harry?" Harry twitched a little. "Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes. He blinked, the dormitory wouldn't come into focus. Harry squinted. That was because it wasn't the dormitory, It was an attic, he only just became aware that he was standing. He was back! Harry tried to suppress his excitement. He strode over to the door. It opened and Harry was at the top of a staircase. Not for the first time it seemed to radiate the sense of foreboding peril. Harry blinked, and began his trip down the staircase. He would not be harmed. Like a child in a trance he reached the foyer. Harry let the summer nights heat wash over him. He paused to recollect. The third door down on the right. There was no point in staring anywhere else. Was there? Harry strained to think clearly. Then it overcame him, a force urging him to run to the door, to open it, to stop the dream, to end it. If he opened the door it would end, he was sure, he mustn't disturb anything if he wanted to know what happened here.

"Open the door." Harry frowned, his brow heavy. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. What was this? This had never happened. Harry reached out his hand, long and pale. So like his own, but so much more sinister. "Just open the door." It hissed.

Harry blinked again. He felt a lurch in his stomach. Harry took a deep breath. He turned away from the door and opened the door leading to the hall. His scar began to prickle. "Go back, it's just an old house Harry." Harry blinked. It was just an old house. Why was he here anyway? Harry held his head, what was it that had been so important? _Just keep walking_. He told himself. Something else was here, and it was trying to deceive him. Harry walked down the hall. The walls were old and tall. Then he heard them. There were voices somewhere nearby. Harry rushed forward only to watch the hall dissolve and the world turn grey.

His eyes opened, drenched in his own cold sweat from some unknown exhaustion. He was twisted in the covers and the room was dark. Harry was confused and a little panicked. Why hadn't the dream continued until the morning. Someone was talking, whispering to him.

Harry reached for his glasses. He grabbed them and put them on, his clammy hands fell shivering to the blankets. He was cold, and dizzy. Harry felt a little ill, and thought he might have a fever,

Harry pulled himself out of bed and went to the common room, not sure of what he was doing. He sat in an armchair by the dying fire, shivering, his teeth chattering. Harry leaned back and his foot brushed against something. He looked down, only to see that his school bag was near his feet, forgotten earlier.

Harry first instinct was to work on an essay, but he quickly realized that this was ludicrous. Harry sat back in his armchair. He wanted to go to the hospital wing, but hew didn't have the time to. The common room was cold, but Harry felt damp. Harry groped about min his bag for a moment when his hand met something cold. Harry clasped his hand around it and pulled it into sight. It was a familiar small blue book, Harry stared at it for a moment, remembering how it had scared him when he had picked it up the first time. This time Harry flicked it open without much of a second thought.

Curses, hexes, rituals, a general collection. Harry stopped when he came to a peculiar potion.

A single drop could curse you. Sort of the opposite of Felix Felis. Harry laughed. That would really suck.

After an hour or so Harry was tempted to use a sleeping charm on himself. He sure that once the morning came, news about the Gryffindor boy would have spread.

* * *

By the time Harry reached the great hall the next morning he was running late. He had crawled back up to the dormitory late that night an had awoken tired and sore for some unknown reason. He had walked quickly to the great hall, but as he had entered, a hush had fallen. 

The Gryffindors were glaring, the Hufflepuffs were minding there own business, and the Ravenclaws eyes him, some skeptically some nervously. Harry frowned a little and worked his way over to the Slytherin table. "What's going on?" he asked, knowing the answer in his heart.

Lestrange who had been eating his porridge looked up, and dropped his spoon. " Another attack." He hissed.

Harry tried to look at least mildly surprised. "On who?"

Teed Flint, who had been levitating a second years spoon, turned his attention toward Harry. " A Gryffindor." He grinned at him.

Harry smirked a little, running his hands through his hair. "Yes, But who?"

Teed exchanged looks with Lestrange. Lestrange looked back at him, his dark brown eyes glinting. "Your going to like this."

Harry watched them fidget a little in their seats. "Gary Smith."

Harry blinked. " Who?"

Lestrange looked a little annoyed. "Allen Weasleys best friend!"

"Oh!" Harry yawned. "Fabulous." He frowned. " How do you know?"

Teed scratched his pointed nose. " Because they always hang out together?"

Harry sighed. "No you moron, how do you know he was attacked."

Teed nodded. " Malfoy. When he was coming back from the hospital wing last night, he saw Dumbledore leaning over the body."

Harry nodded. Well, he knew who he had knocked over. Harry stretched a little, eyeing the eggs. His stomach growled, but classes were due to start in three minutes. Harry sighed, and got up. "I'll see you in potions then."

Harry eased himself out of his seat, and started off toward the dungeons. That was two Gryffindors attacked. Who would be next?

The Great hall was very warm, but the rest of the school had been chilled. The wind played with the windows and drafts unskirted the oblivious first years. The dungeons took the cake, it was only here that your nose and cheeks turned pink Harry blew on his fingers as they waited to be let in. Next to him Lestrange was trying to start a portable fire. Tom arrived moment slater, looking smug, a scarf around his neck, marvelously clear eyed. He swished his wand and started Lestranges fire wordlessly. "Don't burn yourself." He smirked cruelly.

Harry moved to step closer to Lestranges fire, but the doors had opened. Lestrange pouted about to extinguish his fire when he saw Malfoy. Malfoy looked up, saw Lestrange, and then he saw the fire. He gave a little squeal and rushed into the classroom. A good cluster of Slytherins roared with laughter. Harry smirked appreciatively and followed Tom into the potions classroom.

His breath billowed in front of him, like he was breathing fire vapor dreaming of turning into glossy ice. The shards fell to the floor before him as Harry took his seat next to Tom. The class filed in and the seat on his other side was taken by a hesitant Slytherin girl, who stared at the floor, not looking up once at him.

Harry suffered through the coldest lesson he could remember, and relived that care of magical creatures had been canceled, walked to the library. Harry found Lestrange and Malfoy in the back. A breeze rattled the windows, and a draft made the candles flicker now and then. Harry had been assigned three essays, and he needed to complete them in a day. Harry immediately began to write, ignoring Malfoy and Lestranges argument. "They'll catch him before christamss if his is dumb."

Lestrange made a face. " The heir of Slytherin isn't dumb, why would Slytherin have a dumb heir?"

Malfoy was a little flushed. " I still say they'll catch him. Two attacks on mudbloods! Surely they have to do something about it now."

Lestrange grinned. " Oh they'll do something, they'll start looking, but they won't catch him."

Malfoy was slapping the table now. "They have to catch him eventually don't they?"

Lestrange looked out the window. "I don't think so Grodsiusius," his smile became hungry. " I don't think so, nobody even has a theory.The hiersmarter then us, whoever they are. I think they are patent enough to wait us out."

Looking up, surprised, Harry watched Lestrange. That was suspiciously insightful of him.

Lestrange continued. " In any case, They probably won't be catching him before Christmas. Everybody will be gone for the holidays, that would lower the number of suspects by hundreds."

Malfoy was staring at Lestrange more obviously then Harry. It certainly didn't look like Malfoy had expected Lestranges wise words. " Yes, but two mudbloods have been attacked! People are going to start to get worried. This is a big deal, It is going to get out of the castle."

Harry didn't think much more about it until dinner, when it became obvious that Malfoy was right. Such violent acts would hardly remain unnoticed. Harry was enjoying his chicken casserole, when the doors opened and a flourish of men in green robes with purple trim entered. The one in the front was shivering, and there was ice in his beard. The ruddy blonde behind him was sneezing, his big red bulbous nose shaking, something unpleasant dangling frozen from it. There were three of them, followed by a tall women in glasses. Every eye in the hall followed them to the teachers table were professor Dumbledore conjured them purple chairs that matched the trim of their robes. They all nodded to him and sat down. Harry who had been blissfully unaware of the people around him listened as the hum of exited gossip engulfed the hall.

"Who are they..."

"No, there are not teachers...Seriously..."

"...What...The chamber..no..."

" Is that the minister..."

" They are here to find the chamber..."

"They won't last long..."

There were a dozen opinions within earshot. Harry tried hard not to listen, but something in his gut knew that something big was coming. He needed to get the facts straight. There was only one person he trusted to sort through the gossip and emerge with the truth. When diner ended harry waited until Tom stood, nodding in agreement, and picked up his bag. Harry watched him leave the hall and hurried after him.

"Tom."

Tom stopped a few yard in front of him and smiled when he caught sight of him. Harry rushed forward to walk with him. Harry raised his eyebrows and Tom smirked. "Who are they?" Harry asked.

Tom sighed. " A team of historians, architects, and dark magic specialists."

Harry followed along. " Right, but they won't find anything, you have to be a parslemouth to open the chamber."

Tom thought for a moment. "Yes, but it's still sure that they are going to be keeping a close watch on the school."

Harry nodded, ths was true. They were here to find the heir as well as the chamber though Harry doubted they would succeed. "So what are we going to do.'

Tom was deep in thought. " They are meddlesome, but I can't see how they can do worse than slow me down."

Harry grinned. " You could get by them." He stated, and watched Toms smirk deepen.

"I don't want to. It would be much simpler without them. Everything would have to be planned, laid out perfectly."

Harry watched him talk. He was right. " What's the plan then?"

Tom turned sharply and led them down a darker corridor. The dungeons had no windows, and the dim torch at the end of the corridor cast a feeble flicker of light. Harry glimpsed beyond them and saw nothing but a door. Suddenly aware he was alone with one of the most powerful and evil wizards ever born plotting harry couldn't help but smirk. If only Dumbledore could see him now. "My plan." Tom said slowly "Is to let you handle it."

Harry blanched, his eyes watching Toms searching for a meaning, but it appeared he was actually telling the truth. "Me." Harry echoed. " I don't know what you want me to do Tom."

Tom was watching the hallway as he spoke looked at him. "Just lead them the wrong way, scare them off. You have my confidence Harry."

Harry brushed back his dark hair. " Why don't you do it if you want the job done right." Harry spat.

Tom smirked. "I think you are fully capable."

Harry blinked. Tom was grinning as though he knew something Harry didn't. Not for the first time, Harry felt a trill of fear in his stomach, one that made him uneasy. Tom had not threatened him, or even meant to as far as Harry was concerned though Harry knew that the look on Toms face held a secret meant just for Harry. Harry could only think of one dead dark enough to earn even a inkling of reverence in Toms eyes. It made them alike, and it connected Harry to Tom in a way that frightened Harry so deeply he felt himself go pale. He couldn't possibly know? Harry thought back to the caretaker. He had covered his tracks, erased the evidence Tom couldn't know Harry thought, wishing Tom would look away. Harry couldn't see how he would know, and yet, he did. Something in Tom's eyes spelt out the truth to him. His secret was finally out. Harry let his eyes level. "What do you mean?" Harry asked, a small smile on his face, as though he were only humoring Tom.

" I think that you are capable of far worse than creating a diversion for nosey ministry historians, that's what I mean."

Harry fought the repulsive urge to smile."What makes you say that?"

Tom was smirking now, his eyes shown with ill intent, and oddly enough, Harry was not afraid. He knew Tom well enough to know that Tom didn't mean to hurt him. In fact he looked slightly pleased. Harry felt a small twang a pride, but quickly threw it away. He had killed man.

Harry sighed with resignation, and smiled. " Can I have till the start of the second term?" Harry asked.

Tom smiled, his handsome features elegant in the dark. "Perfect."

Harry smiled too. That gave him the entire Christmas break to figure out what he was going to do.

* * *

The next day at lunch professor Dumbledore passed around the list of people who were staying at Hogwarts for Christmas, and Harry didn't even think twice before signing himself up .He noticed that Toms name was also on the list, with Patrick Skegaenthe only Slytherins that would remain at Hogwarts over the Christmas break. 

Harry wished he could say he would miss Malfoy and Lestrange, but to be honest he was rather looking forward to weeks of Malfoy free library visits, and Lestrange free evenings in the common room. He would have all the time he wanted to study. He could read anything he wanted for hours without interruption, as he expected that his Christmas would be far less merry than those with the Weasleys. This wasn't really bothering him though. Allen Weasley was his living reminder of the Weasleys he loved, and it didn't really make Harry anxious to recall his past life.

Malfoy watched him sign his name without saying anything, and Harry had then opinion that it was only because Tom was next to him that he wasn't asking why he was staying.

Harry was happy until his eyes strayed down the list and he found that Allen Weasleys name was just bellow Mickey Dragons name, marring the list. Harry groaned into his goblet, attracting disgusted looks from many of the Slytherins near him. He hated Allen Weasley and he really wanted to be left alone in the library. He had to figure out a way to distract the ministry. Harry was confident in himself non the less. He was smart, and he was powerful. He could outwit a ruddy blonde from the country. Harry let his eyes wander to the staff table were the group of them sat. The tall one with blonde hair reminded him of Mr. Weasley. Harry smiled. He could handle the Weasleys and farmers, they looked liked a bunch of tired wrokers.

* * *

Indeed they did seem very tired. The rest of the school had lost most of it's interest in the historians and dark magic specialists until their last charms class of the term. Professor Tweady with his hair unkempt and his robes uneven had been pulling himself off the floor after Grodsiusius had hit him in a very sensitive spot with his mincing charm ( Professor tweady had thought that a simple mincing charm might be a fun change before the holidays) He was just bracing himself against the table, deciding it wasn't such a great idea when the doors opened without a knock. In came three of the specialists wearing their green robes, trailing behind them was Professor Dippit, his face stony his hands clasped together. 

The first man in the green robes swept up to the desk and looked at Professor Tweady with disdain. "You are professor Tweady?"

Professor Tweady managed a groan, and slumped against his desk. One of the green robed men with a deep brown mustache, and unruly hair reached for Professor Tweady's chair, eyeing him wearily, as though he were afraid that professor Tweady was about to faint.

The tallest man continued." You may have been uniformed of our visit and I apologize for such short notice."

Professor Tweady nodded, grimacing. " I was..unaware"

The green robed man nodded. " My colleagues and I are here to question your students. It should not take very long. I am sure you will be able to resume your...lesson within a quarter of an hour."

Professor Tweady waved him off, obviously not keen on resuming the class. The green robed man gave him a last look before turning to the class. " I am Crigium McBoogle." Harry was unsurprised to hear a good part of the class break out into laughter. McBoogle gave them all a stern look and only a brave few continued chuckling. "We are hear on very serious business, and we are hear to speak with you now concerning the chamber of secrets."

A hush fell over the class, even professor Tweady was watching Crigium now, a pained expression pursing his face.

"We would like to know if you have any questions or comments because I believe your input could help make this job easier."

Harry was sure that this speech was fake. He just wanted to make a good impression.

The rest of the class seemed to think so, the room hummed with silence, until at last one mousy Gryffindor raised his hand. Harry caught Toms eye. " Will you find the chamber and close it forever?" He asked. Even his friends were glaring at him, but the boy didn't seem to notice.

The man in the green robe nodded. "It will be closed and this heir os Slytherin nonsense will be put to an end."

Harry nodded along, his mind wandering. He had three weeks to get rid of this overconfident wizard, three weeks was going to seem much shorter in the other side of Christmas.

After dinner Harry slipped out of the great hall, thinking he would go to the library and get a head start. He paced in front of the shelves on charms, and hovered over M_agical accidents of the 20th century_. Harry just couldn't think of what would help him. He walked away and put his bag on the table. He had to do this, or Tom would realize he was just a Gryffindor in Slytherin robes. His cover would be blown, and everybody would know who he was. Harry felt a stab of panic. He closed his eyes and didn't think of Tom, or of Dumbledore for a moment. He thought of himself. He was clever and he was powerful, he just had to find his way. He thought of the caretaker and felt something inside him burn. He wasn't a Gryffindor anymore, he was a Slytherin, it was time he accepted it. Harry smiled alone sinisterly, the light of the candles reflecting his thoughts. He was capable of more than he gave himself credit for. Maybe Tom was right. Harry knew in his heart that he would make it back to his own time, but for now, just for now, Harry thought, for the sake of the wizarding world, his friends his future his past and his present, there would be nogood and evil, only power, and those to weak to seek it. Harry smiled and wind howled against the window.

* * *

So there you go.Ok so the dreams are going to mean somethingand I know you are probably wondering why Dumbledore keeps letting Harry go. I know it looks lame but he already know that it's TomI suspect and Dumbledore is beginging to distrust Harry, there may be a Harry Dumbledore understanding before Harry goes back to his own time coming up.Ok that was longer than the last few. Ok, just a few authers notes I would like to add. one, the name McBoogle is the hybird of the name McDoogle which I shamelesly ripped off of Max Keebles Big Move. Yeah, the Disney movie with really annoying kids and a stuffed scottish frog suit.Anyway, the next chapter will showyou Harrys plan and some more of Moaning Myrtle I think.I am also wondering if amybe I am going to bring up horcruxes again. SP tell me waht yoput hink, please review,I love it soo much when you review. 

Thanks to everyone who reviewed my last chapter.I'm the lazest thing ever sometimes so please don't be mad that i haven't personalized my thanks.

Also BETA! I NEED A BETA. I think I already said this but I suck at editing most of the time, so please help me kind people!

Sometimes the words stick together when I post themI didn't doso it, the computer does it I promise. Does this happen to anyone else? Please, am I crazy doesn't this happen to everybody?

Oh and I have a few story ideas posted on my profile page. Some of thses may end up becoming stories soon so you can have a look if you are interested.


	19. Happy Holidays Tom

Hello my people. I"MMMMM BACKKKKKK. Wow, I haven't updated in like forever, but this chapter is pretty much a beast. It is the longest chappie I think I have ever written. I split this sucker in two, so this is part one. I introduce a couple of characters in this and there are major plot pieces in this. Like big time. In the next couple of chapters, I am going to bring up some old stuff. After this, there are going to be 11 chapters left of this story. The chapters are likely to get longer. Lots of little mysteries are going to be solved. Soooo, please review, it will probably make me update a bit faster this time...lol, sorry.

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning feeling a little tired. He dragged himself out of bed, and was immediately reminded that today was the day that people were going home for the holidays, when Malfoy levitated his trunk past him. 

Harry grabbed his glasses and dressed feeling that there was to much to miss sleeping in today. He found his way to the common room, yawning, and rubbing his elbow were he had clumsily bumped it on Lestranges bed. Malfoy was near the fire, trying to load the last of his bags into this trunk, and a small blonde girl was holding her friends doll a head above her chuckling cruelly. Harry smiled as the absurdity melded him.

The fire in the grate was small and orange against the stone. Harry shivered. "Are you not coming?"

Harry jumped. "What?" Behind him was the girl he borrowed a paper from a few week before. " Oh, no."

She smiled, and fumbled with her robe. She looked up and then back down blushing. " I umm, I wan..wanted to tell you..."

She trailed off looking terrified over his shoulder. Harry turned and followed her gaze. Tom, was working his way through the din toward him. She stood for a moment as though weighing her options, stay and talk or run. She looked down. " I gotta go."

Harry almost called after her but decided not to make a scene as he could not really remember her name. She scurried away quickly scampering through the crowd. Tom reached him smiling. Harry didn't take his eyes off the spot where she had been standing. "Hey Tom, do you know her?" He asked, sure she looked familiar.

Tom looked around. "Who?"

Harry sighed. "That..nobody..she just..." Harry turned to face him.

Tom was giving him an odd look. "Myrtle? ."

"Yeah." Harry murmured. "She took one look at you, and it's like she thought you were the plague."

Tom shrugged. "That doesn't happen too often."

Harry laughed still feeling a little uneasy. " I bet it doesn't"

Malfoy wormed his way through the chaos, and ducked around Toms arm. " Hey, we're leaving soon."

Harry gave him a wave. " Have a great Christmas."

Malfoy smiled. " Yeah you too, hey, I'll send you all your presents by owl."

Harry started. Presents? He smiled and nodded. " Sure" he said, feeling a little lame. He had forgotten about the holidays. People generally did get other people presents. He had to add that to his list. He had to sabotage the ministry and somehow shop for presents, and seem like he had control. He couldn't look out of sync. Maybe he could charm them up? Could you do that? Harry was thrown from his thoughts when a Slytherin second years trunk slammed into his shoulder as it floated by. Cussing he rubbed the sore spot peering through the crowd. Who in the hell was dumb enough to hit him? He was going to find out. He watched the end of the trunk vanish as it bobbed out the portrait hole.

Harry started after them, a stubborn streak he had never managed to shake propelling him out the portrait hole.

He plodded his way through a scraggly patch of first year boys, and around a corner, and there was the boy, bent over checking his robes.

"You!" Harry called out as the boy raised his head. He stared at him in a dazed kind of shock, before scrambling to attention. The boy turned on his heal, but Harry was faster. He raised his wand and in a without even a sound _Stupify!_

The boy stopped and keeled over onto the stone floor. Harry strode over and waved his wand. "Renevate." The boy blinked.

" Potter!"

Harry signed and turned around. There was a tall boy, with a Gryffindor scarf around his neck and next to him, dumpy and pale was Allen. " What exactly do you think you are doing?"

Harry sighed benignly. It was pointless to try to explain this to a Gryffindor, especially if he kept such company as Allen. It was a pointless discussion. " Just talking with my little friend here." The boy on the ground shot him a look of deepest loathing. Harry glared at him and he quickly changed his look to one of hasty agreement.

" Really?' The boy asked looking skeptically between the two of them.

"Just a chat." Harry responded, smiling.

The tall Gryffindor nodded. " You watch yourself."

Allen scowled. "He's lying Rufe!" He snorted loudly. " Potter is probably about to torture the poor kid!"

Harry smirked. " What if I am Weasley, You'll be rich the day you prove it."

Allen whipped out his wand, and Harry's smirk deepened when 'Rufe' dove in front of him. "Allen put that away, don't be a idiot." Allen peered vehemently over Rufus's shoulder trying in vain, to see him. " Potter, if you have something you want to say, say it now." Rufus said loudly, reminding Harry of Percy. Rufus jabbed his thumb to his shoulder. " I am a prefect." He said with a notable amount of pride. " You should always remember that Potter."

The boy behind Harry moved " This is all wrong, Harry was just telling me to watch my trunk on the train, and then your friend started threatening me with his wand!" His voice was high and shrill and it looked like he was tearing up a smirk on his pale lips.

Harry tried not to laugh. Rufe froze before backing up, rasing his nose, and pushing Allen back he murmured. "Come on, let's go, I still have rounds. If you ever threaten another student I'll write to your mum myself."

Allen blushing, followed his friend. Harry watched them go before rounding on the boy. He smirked. " I just covered for you, you sure needed it."

Harry squinted at the boy in distaste. " Oh yeah, what were you born in a barn? Did your mother teach you decency?"

The boy smiled, and chirped. " Nope, Say what's your name?"

Harry frowned in disdain. " Harry Potter." he turned around, ready to walk away when the boy scoffed.

" Oh, don't you want to know who I am?" he asked. He looked as though he thought Harry had forgotten.

"No." Harry yelled after him.

"My name is Alphard Black." He yelled.

Harry only just managed not to gasp. Sirius's father? No that couldn't be right. His Uncle? Yes! He was remembering. He had left Sirius gold. He had been blasted off of the family tree because of it. So he couldn't be that bad really. Anybody who merited expulsion from the Black family tree were usually worth knowing. Harry choked on his own spit, struggling to find words. " Merry Christmas Black."

The kid smiled. " You too Harry."

Harry felt something thaw and wash away. Some sort of courage had just been erased from his collection of will, something crucial. He walked away without looking back, but he could feel the young Black fading away, down the corridor and up into the light. He whipped around a corner, feeling lower then ever. He turned several more corners until he emerged from behind a tapestry. He plowed his way up a staircase and walked away from the noise emitting from the great hall. He walked down the next corridor faster, around another corner, and he entered the library.

He couldn't wait until he was free of this reality, and at the same time, the thought of returning was beginning to weigh upon his mind. Would he return the same person? Would his friends welcome him back with open arms? Or would they laugh at his misfortunes as though it had all been a bad day? He had been here for months, with the sole purpose of returning, of discovering Tom's weakness, and he had yet to find any. Harry scanned the shelves for a title, or bookto catch his eye that might be able to help him sabotage a ministry investigation in his school.

Harry read a few titles with a frown. Something about a warlock who burned huts in the tropics. Well that was useful! How was he going to manipulate a group of ministry officials without drawing attention to himself? Three wizards and a record keeper. Too many to curse or jinx, for that would drw attention. Maybe he didn't need to curse all of them. Harry paused , his hand creeping up a shelf of transfiguration books. He really only needed to get rid of McBoogle and the record keeper. Without a leader they would wander aimlessly, and if their records were invalid, all of their work would count for nothing. Harry smiled and as though a light bulb had flicked on, he whipped about and raced to another shelf, feverishly scattering books in his mad search. He had seen Tom with the book weeks ago. Harry reached up and pulled down a book grinning at his success In his hands he held the key to the beginning of his plan. Harry looked down with reverent regards at _Moste Potente Potions_.

He needed the record keeper to be incoherent. No spell or hex did it as well as a potion. Harry grinned, Imagining how Snape must have felt when he realized he could make people do what he wanted with a drop of brewed liquid. Harry wrinkled his nose. He could do forever without being able to relate to Severus Snape.

Harry sat down and flipped the pages, hoping to find something, He needed the records botched, He didn't want the record keeper hurt, or in pain or dead. That wasn't necessary. All he needed was a way to make the records less than trustworthy, no what he needed was to make the record keeper less than trustworthy.

Harry paused on a fading page, the corners were crumbling and torn but he couldn't have hoped for anything much better.

_Delirium Del Vitreous_ _Curse of disillusion, boiled in night_

_Delirium del Vitreous, once popular in ancient mediaeval date's purpose has changed little in over a thousand years. Discovered in the later part of the fourteenth century, Delirium Del Vitreous was made popular in king Henry the eighths royal courts. Compatible with the muggle disease Syphilis, Delirium Del Vitreous has only served one purpose. To mutilate common sense, and destroy the minds rationalism. _

Harry smiled. It was perfect. There was no way you could keep records correct after you had drunk some of this. The problem would be making it. It would take far to long. Harry scanned the rest of the page and looked at the ingredients list. Damn. No he wouldn't be able to brew this is less thana month.

Harry stopped for a moment and considered his options. The only other potion he had ever brewed with dark intention was the polyjuice potion. Back in second year he, Ron and Hermione had stolen from Snape and, though Snape had never been able to prove it, he had never forgotten. That certainly would not do this time around. Now he was alone, and he had to be more aware . He thought again. Slughorn had a massive supply of potions in his private stores. Perhaps he could steal some. That would be far easier and much quicker to disguise. He could just transfigure the label into something else. Slughorn would never know he had stolen it. Harry couldn't help but grin.

He slipped the book back onto the shelf. He didn't need it anymore, and he picked up his bag. He would go to Slughorns office that night while he was at dinner. Slughorn was not known for missing his meals.

The Castel was quiet and still. The cold drafts licked at his robes as walked down the hallway. He decided to spend the rest of his time in the Slytherin common room, working on essays, or studying, even though he didn't need to. He needed to do something to keep his mind busy. Harry turned a corner and if it hadn't been for his superior Quidditch reflexes he might have fallen. Allen Weasley sped to a stop, inches away from him and tripped over the hem of Harry's robe. Harry watched as he grabbed at the air waving on his feet. Harry would have reached out to help him, but it was much easier and entertaining to watch his face twist in horror before yelling. " Pot..Watch.." and twisting his ankle he fell to the floor with a loud smack.

Harry tried not to giggle. That was just too mean. Smirking Harry stepped over Allens wand and stood above him, trying not to cackle. " Right foot left Weasley."

Allen scowled and tried to gather himself up. Harry bent down and picked up his wand. Allen brushed the dirt off of his robes and began patting his pockets. " Looking for this Weasley?"

Harry sneered as Allens eyes traveled to his wand in Harry's hand.

He turned red but Harry could see a look of fear in his eyes. " Just hand it to me Potter." He said carefully, watching Harry intently.

Harry shrugged. " I don't know why I should. You can barely use it anyway. "

Allen didn't turn bright red through his ears as he was expected to. Instead his face grew white. "Not all of us are bloody marvelous in transfiguration Potter."

Harry, slightly surprised grinned. "Isn't that the truth."

Allen Weasley scowled. " Fine, now give me back me wand." Harry raised his eyebrows.

He was about to retort when Harry heard something. Harry looked up just as Allen Weasley lunged. Harry was quick to raise his wand, but someone else was quicker because he was stunned in midair and had fallen before Harry had yelled a blocking spell.

Harry watched as Tom who had just rounded the corner gave him a curious look. He walked forward and looked down at Allen. "You really shouldn't just lie there Weasley, you're blocking the corridor."

Tom stepped over Allen who was still stupefied giving Tom a look of great loathing and fear. Tom looked down at him with disgust. "Pathetic excuse for a pureblood." Allen, who had gone chalk white was staring at them his eyes moving very fast. " Oh, don't worry, we aren't going to hurt you." He said, his voice holding a sense of amusement.

Harry grinned catching on. " Too many teachers patrolling during the day." Allen looked as though he might squeak..if he could. Tom turned around, a small surprised smile toying with his lips. Harry sneered and said " Renevate." Allen relaxed and then, attempted to scramble to his feet. Harry chucked his wand at him, and Allen promptly let it go sliding down, it clattered on the floor. "We won't curse you next time if you can manage to keep your filthy hands off me for a change."

Allen quickly retrieved his wand from the floor. " Sure, maybe next time I'll just try to curse you instead." Harry watched Tom smirk , and thought he had probably found humor in the word 'Try'.

Harry shrugged. " Alright, I'll let you _try_. "

Allen gave him another deeply bothered look before he turned and ran away, his cloak snapping against the dark walls.

Harry waited until he was out of earshot before whispering. "Thanks."

Tom shrugged. "Anytime."

Harry grinned. " If you ever decide that he needs to spend some time in the hospital wing, just let me know. "

* * *

Harry spent a good portion of the day in the common room, where he was alone with a small girl in fifth year. She sighed repeatedly, as though hoping Harry might look up and ask her what was wrong. Harry hardly had enough time as it was, he didn't need to be consoling annoying fourth years, so when she coughed loudly, Harry stood up and left. He could think of no better time to take his chances at stealing _Delirium Del Vitreous_. He exited the common room silently. 

The dungeons were dark and chilled as they always were in the winter. Harry walked down the corridor and instead of heading up to the great hall, he turned and walked in the opposite direction toward Slughorns office. When Harry found the door he stopped. He held his breath and lowered his ear to the door. Not a scratch of a quill or scrape of a mug.

Harry brought out his wand and was about to whisper Alohamora but the draft caught the door and it creaked open. Harry lowered his wand, holding back tears of laughter. After Snape, Hogwarts had never been quite the same. The old days were much prefered.

Harry stepped into the office whispered " Lumos." His wand tip lit up. Harry shut the door and peered around. The room had hardly changed since the last time he had been there. The paper on his desk were still scattered and upon a closer inspection Harry noticed that the coffee cup was the same. Harry snorted at this new foul discovery and turned his attention back to the walls of shelves.

Potions of every color and texture sat on the shelves while still more seemed to hover sinisterly. Harry bent down and scanned the shelves. Basic potions and healing potions were dominant. Harry was just beginning to wonder if he would have Delirium Del Vitreous when a label caught his eye. _Felix Felis _stood, seemingly inconspicuous, partially hidden behind a bottle of boil solution Harry walked over to the bottle that looked as though it had been recently shoved onto the shelf, poorly hidden, Harry magiced the bottle out of the way and sure enough, several rows of dark potion, and on the end,a small vile of something blue labeled _Delirium Del Vitreous_.

Grinning like a lunatic Harry levitated the bottle to him. Harry snatched it out the air and the second it hit his hand he felt relief spread though him. Harry quickly put it in his bag. He looked around. He pulled a scrap of paper up off of the desk and quickly transfigured it to look like the bottle of Delirium Del Vitreous he had so easily swindled from his foolish professor.

Harry opened the door and looked around. Nobody was in the hallway. He quickly lightly closed the door. He adjusted his bag and lowered his wand. He started down the hall way, without a trace of his own deception.

He quickly turned and headed upwards, out of the dungeons, up more stairs, ignoring the smells of food from the great hall. He walked quietly towards the library, flushed and equally liberated by his new plan, though it needed to be planned all the way through.

The shelves were growing dark and the torches flickered sinisterly. He sat down and breathed in the sent. He had a week to expel the ministry ands he was short two thirds of the plan. He knew what he wanted to ruin the records, but no method. Then their was McBoogle, ruddy and foolish. Stubborn and fixated, unwilling to believe that he was in any danger. What was he going to do about him. That could be decided later, first he had to make sure the record keeper drank the potion.

Harry felt himself tense. It wasn't as though he could sneak up on the record keeper in the great hall, cry 'look it's a troll' and slip him the potion. No, it would have to be done far more discreetly...

* * *

Harry fell asleep that night late. It was Christmas eve and the grounds were silent in holy tribute. The snow was falling lightly and Harry lay awake for hours. He heard a second year curse on the stairs when his friend missed a step. He listened to the world around him, impervious to it's flaws. He fell asleep a while after he heard Tom come in, and he slept uneasily. 

He was swimming again, in a sea of black. The sky crumbling gold. The air was warm, harry closed his eyes, nauseous. He opened them, and the floor was sturdy. He blinked in surprise, and realized where he was. A very familiar room. The attic was sweltering, and Harry once again, felt a sense of control. Just him, alone and powerful. He stood and strode to the door, which opened on his own accord., the stairs were still draped in red, the color of murder. He descended the stairs. The room was wide, several white doors to confuse him. The bouquet of flowers orderly, white lilies, buttermilk gardenias. Harry turned, walking toward the door he knew he should open, and then he heard them again. The voices. Harry closed his eyes hard, and focusing all his energy he turned around, and there by the front door was a man.

"Frank the kitchen, Frank the garden." He mumbled, tall and tough, he leaned on one foot to take the pleasure off another. "Damn leg."

Harry held his breath, or at least it seemed like he did. Frank?

Frank sighed. " Get out Frank, while you still can." He chuckled and walking wobbly over to the hard table and tucked in a bushel of simple blue flowers. "Color patterns, tsk tsk."

Harry stood frozen. Frank looked about, and then, his gaze fell on Harry. Or rather on the air Harry thought he was using. Frank shook his head. "Bad night." he hung his head and turned. " Nothing is going to change." Harry tried to turn but didn't find the will to. "Nothing..."

Harry felt himself growing sick, his stomach clenching. Harry clenched his eyes shut, suddenly feeling his sense of control flitting. He clenched himself up and fell forward. His head met the ground, softer then it should have been. Harry ripped open his eyes, and he was back in bed, curled up and sweating, looking as though he had been Crucio-ed past any semblance of hope. He gasped, feeling sicker then before. He groped about and pulled open the hangings, and he grabbed his glasses on the way to the bathroom, his stomach swirling. Harry wiped away the sweat.

* * *

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, long tired nights spent this way, and yet, he had discovered very little. The map refused to sow him what he needed to know. A sick worry had burrowed into his heart. Not for the last time, the savor of the wizarding worlds fate was left alone with him, but this was the only time that he had no way of helping. 

He had spent many a night, pondering, plumbing the vast mines of knowledge he possessed, researching, wondering. He was at a loss, and he knew it to finding him. So he had begun to form another plan. Instead of discovering what it was Harry had wished himself to, he would focus on contacting him. If he could speak to Harry, he could help him. What if the boy was trapped somewhere? Dumbledore sighed, his eyes Picasso blue. He sat and wished. Chimes signaled the someone had penetrated his gargoyle guardians level. Dumbledore sat up straighter in his chair, and adjusted his glasses. He cleared his throat just before the anticipated knock on his oaken door, his heart beating tiredly. "Enter."

* * *

Harry spent the better part of Christmas morning a little dizzy. He had went down to the common room to unwrap his presents with Tom three first years and a angry looking fourth year. He had gotten a new cloak from Malfoy, expensive and tailored. Tom had presented him with another book of handwritten spells. He had grinned at the corpulent amounts of sugared pineapple he had unwrapped that Slughorn had sent him. He had scowled when he realized that Tom had gotten twice as much. Lestrange had sent him nothing, Harry noticed with a smirk. 

The fourth year boy had introduced himself as Gavivi Nott. Harry had tried not to snort when he had asked Harry where he had gotten his pineapple.

He had spent much of the day debating ways to use the potion and He was almost sad when Tom went to wish Slughorn a merry Christmas. Harry suspected that wasn't all he was doing, but he didn't nose around. He was walking to the great hall for Christmas dinner with Gavivi Nott when something strange happened. Certainly not odd, but strange enough to catch his attention. A house elf with a sack of Christmas wrappings scuttled by them. Gavivi looked and laughed, That was when if came to Harry like it would to a professional. Who fed the ministry officials?

Harry choked on a piece of dried pineapple. Gavivi looked up from his long winded conversation concerned. "Harry?"

Harry hammered himself with his fist spluttering on his stupidity. "Uhh?"

Gavivi watched him, half amused half worried. "Are you okay then?"

Harry nodded. " I forgot um..my wand Harry said hiding the tip of his wand poking out of his pocket. "I'll meet you there."

Gavivi looked up and Harry was pretty sure he would offer to walk back with him, so he turned and hurried back down the corridor. "I'll see in a few."

Harry rounded the dungeon corner and stopped waiting to hear Gavivi's footsteps go up the stairs. He waited a few seconds more precaution humming. Then he turned away and doubled back, he looked about and opened the classroom door, and sure enough there was the house elf whistling. It was gathering the garbage, it's small hands moving like lightning, it looked up and squeaked. "Oh..Oh!"

Harry used his hands to silence it. " It's ok,. I just wanted to know if you could do me a favor." That's when Harry rembered the house elf would never do anything to hurt a Hogwarts or ministry member, at least, not without knowing him, which it didn't.

The elf seemed to relax. " I is sorry sir...I is just taking out the ..." He stopped talking it's eyes focused on Harry. Harry had drawn his wand, thinking very fast.

He had to do this. Tom would surely suspect him if he didn't. Besides it would be much easier without the ministry poking around. Harry felt his throat go dry. It wouldn't matter, no matter what he did. He could kill the elf if he so wanted, and it would all go back to normal when he left. Really he was just making it go faster. Harry searched his mind. Something that would bend the elf, but not hurt it. He certainly didn't want to hurt it, it was only trying to empty the garbage .The elf looking like it was about to pop into thin air so he raised his wand and cried the first spell he could think of, knowing he would regret it. "Imperius."

The elf froze and Harry felt something rush through his wand and into him. Control, full control. He was warm, his skin buzzing with energy, a feeling he remembered somewhere from his dreams, of self reassurance. He needn't worry, he could control the elf now. He could feel the elf's thoughts, it's sadness, fear and happiness. It was intoxicating. Harry almost gasped. The elf was buzzing with life, life that was suddenly required to bend to his will. Half terrified half mesmerized Harry sighed.

"What is your name?"

The elf's eyes had gone black. "Wobbly."

Harry nodded. "I want you to help me Wobbly."

Wobbly didn't move. Harry reached into his bag and pulled out the vile of potion. "Do you know what this is?"

Wobbly shook it's head and said in a deadpan monotone. " No sir."

Harry sighed. "That's probably for the better really Wobbly." The elf didn't reply. " I want this to end up in the ministry record keepers food."

The elf nodded. "Nobody else's, do you understand?"

The elf replied. " Yes."

Harry grinned. "You are not to show this to anyone, nor speak of it. You are not to try to contact any of the other elves, not are you to try to fight me. Do you agree Wobbly?"

The elf didn't speak and for a second Harry thought it might disagree. "Yes Sir."

Harry smiled as the elf took the potion. " Come to me when you have completed your task and I am alone, I can't be seen with you."

"Alright Sir."

Harry nodded and the elf stood still. "Go about business as usual." Wobbly reached forward, grabbed the potion and disappeared. Harry breathed out, feeling the tension in his mind calm considerably. Harry dropped off his bag and quickly made his way back to the great hall.

The teachers had dragged one table into the middle of the hall. Harry scanned the table and saw Gavivi seated at the end, talking animatedly with a second year Ravenclaw casting glances across the table. Tom was ignoring Gavivi, and Harry noticed he looked a little restless. Harry took his seat next to him.

He tried not to stare at the record keeper, a tall women, white, with light brown hair in a harsh bun. He had a hard time keeping her off his mind, so he resorted to his peripheral vison, when she took a bite of roast he watched her, when she tried the cranberry sauce he felt a jolt of fright. He didn't know wether it was of being caught or for her.

Harry felt his feeling of worry intensify, and as the meal was nearing it's end and still no signs of insanity seemed to be coming from her, he began to wonder what had happened to his master plan. Had the elf managed to fight his imperius? Had something else gone wrong.

He was however, relived when the record keeper stood up, and the table was silent, expecting a speech. The women opened her mouth and said.

"A-tisket. a-tasket  
A green and yellow basket  
I wrote a letter to my love  
And on the way I lost it  
I lost it, I lost it  
On the way I lost it  
A little girl picked it up  
And put it in her pocket"

People around the table looked up and plainly stared. Gavivi stopped muttering to the first year and watched smirking. Several Gryffindors exchanged looks of concern. Harry tried not to look like he knew anything. He fixed a confused and amused look on his face and stared. The record keeper looked around. "Didn't you know!"

McBoogle was beginning to stand. Several of the other Ministry members were trying to pull the record keeper toward them. Dumbledore was looking at her quizzically. McBoogle reached her first. "Petula?" He seemed to want to shake her. "Petula?" When she laughed and bounced, before dropping her head onto her shoulder, he turned to Dippit. ' She's had...a long day, perhaps some rest?"

Professor Dippit looked from the giggling Petula to McBoogle who wore a apprehensive smile. Harry thought he looked a little stupid. Dippit nodded his head fervently. " Yes, oh of course.."

Harry turned back to his food, while McBoogle walked with the record keeper out of the hall. Smiling to himself he took another helping of pudding. "What were you saying Gavivi?"

Gavivi looked stunned. "What in the bleeding hell?"

Harry shrugged. " Too much wine." He smiled sweetly. "Pudding?" He offered the bowl. Gavivi took it, still looking shaken. Harry could feel Tom's eyes on him. He looked up and found that he was watching Harry amused.

Harry left the hall when Gavivi piled Treacle tart on his plate so that he might be able to get away with out walking with him. Harry turned the corner when he heard someone else's breath and someone's shoulder brushed against his soundlessly. Harry didn't even have to glance at him.

Tom laughed. "Well, what did you do?"

Harry grinned. " Was it so obvious?"

Tom shrugged. "I suppose not, Gavivi bought it."

Harry smirked. "Delirium Del Vitreous."

Tom responded impressed. "Where in the world did you get it?"

Harry shrugged lazily. "Slughorn, took me about three minutes."

Tom nodded. "House elf?"

Harry smiled. " Yeah."

Tom laughed coldly. " Brilliant."

Harry privately agreed, but that he thought so too made a surge of pride rush through him. He wished it hadn't though, when a wave of guilt followed. He had poisoned her, made her insane, though it would wear off eventually. When he left. Still, Tom's approval reassured him. Brilliant? He didn't get that often. Especially from someone who he hated to admit, was particularly brilliant too. More so then he was.

Harry was indeed rather proud. It had taken him less then a day to really put his plans into motion. Would Malfoy have been able to do so? Harry somehow thought not. Harry had spent months pretending to be one up and now he was beginning to feel so.

Harry didn't think about the house elf again until much later that night. Early morning was washing and Harry was sitting in an arm chair reading the book Tom had given him that day. The fire was dull and it cast shadows on the large vaulted ceiling. It was something he had long grown used to. Harry didn't bother to look up until he heard something stir.

Harry searched the room quickly, and then, two feet from him was suddenly thick of Wobbly. Harry snapped his book shut. "Well?"

Wobbly wobbled a little. "I has put it in her pumpkins sir, I has."

Harry grinned a little. He loved house elves. It pained him to force Wobbly to work for him, but sacrifices must be made. "Good job Wobbly."

The elf bowed reverently. "I is making a good job of it?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah." He sighed a little. " Finite Incantum." Harry watched Wobbly sway and then jump. "Oblivate." The elf choked a little.

He looked up and then down again, confused and Harry felt himself think of Dobby. " I..I is..emptying..I is...not emptying."

Harry looked back down at his book, so as not to embarrass him. Harry heard him cough then disappear with a pop into thin air, talking about trash baskets. Harry shook his head, and went back to his reading. Poor Wobbly, he thought.

Harry slept most of the next day, exhausted but content from his long night of research. At dinner he was given another reminder of what his cunning could do. Harry sat down and served himself, trying not be bother with Nott, who was talking his ears off. Harry happened to glance up and notice that the record keeper was string quite fascinated at Slughorn who was edging away, his chair squealing. Harry quite ignored them until she declared quite loudly that Slughorn was breathing louder than a common queeler. This reminded Harry of something Luna Lovegood would have said and Harry couldn't help but smirk. Gavivi was staring as well.

He looked at Harry smiling. " Well, I'd say she's lost it!"

Indeed it seemed she had, and it seemed, she was everywhere that Harry went. Harry would leave the Library and find her building tents with books, he would go to the loo and find her consorting with Peeves, he would attempt to pick at his dinner and she would be there. Often pandemonium would follow.

For a school with so many people missing it was incredible each and every time the record keeper somehow managed to bring Dumbledore or Dippit in moments. She was a menace. Every step she took resulted in a new uproar. She painted on the walls and skipped through the halls. Harry was rather glad Agustiaus had not lived to see it. Everywhere the record keeper went the teachers exchanged looks. Harry knew it was only a matter of time before her reputation would be brought before the school.

Harry simply sat back and waited. Break passed in a blur of snow and food. He was kept well fed and warm, the vacation being a great success. Two days before the new term Harry took a walk. He put on his new cloak that screamed of Malfoy wealth, and brushing back his dark hair he had a quick laugh. If you had told him a year before he would be poncing about, his hair neat and his cloak Malfoy tailored he would have passed out. It was quite ironic really and in a world where little was truly funny to him, ironic made up for it mostly. He had turned into his arch nemesis's. He would hate himself if he could co-exist with his old self. He was positive.

Harry left the dungeons still marveling at himself. He was halfway across then entrance hall when he nearly ran into a very fast moving, aggravated looking McBoogle. "Umph..Hummm." he buzzed pulling back, his stiff cologne filling Harrys nostrils.

Harry pulled back, not wanting to touch him. Harry waited for an apology, but it didn't look like McBoogle was going to give him one. Harry put on his best dignified look. "Excuse me."

McBoogle looked back down at him and his nose flared in distaste. "Oh, yes, well, what was your name."

Harry smirked, and McBoogle seemed to notice. "Potter."

McBoogle looked as though he wanted to leave, but suddenly found him interesting. "Yes, well...lovely day then."

Harry grinned, though he thought it might have looked more sinister then he had intended. "Yes sir, I passed the record keeper on my way here and, she seemed to be in a right state." Harry tried not to laugh. McBoogle froze and the exasperates began to rub his temples.

"Yes, well, I can't imagine she was doing anything productive." He snapped.

Harry shrugged. " She seems to have gone off a little since break, wouldn't you say?"

McBoogle looked over his innocent face and frowned . " Well...I suppose...just a little bit to relaxed I'd say."

Harry watched as McBoogle looked about. " Yes, I suppose since Christmas she has been a little..."

"Loony?" Harry offered with a smirk.

McBoogle seemed a little thrown for a moment of Harrys eagerness to help. Harry just smiled. "Well...Yes..."

Harry shrugged. "I'd better be off."

McBoogle still seemed to be confused. Harry felt a sense of power as he walked toward the grounds. He felt suddenly much taller, knowing that his next victim was standing less the twenty feet away, completely unaware. Harry surged forward. What he needed now was a plan. Just one more plan...and things would become a little more normal.

* * *

Alrightly then. Yes, rufus is Rufus Scridgemor. Gavivi Nott's name was not a coincidence. Gavivi means money is sweet, and is of African origin. Funny or what? Black will have importance in this story. I am so sorry it took me so fricken long to update. Please review with comments and questions. It makes me happy (: I am going to be coming up toward the end in the next weeks, so I really want to get some input from you people. Thank you to everyone who had reviewed, you make me keep writing. Oh, and I want to know if anybody is egining to figure out the dream. It's a little complicated, but you got a HUGE peice in this chapter, so tell me what you think kay. 


	20. A conspiracy?

Hey again. YAHOOO this would be chapter twenty. I woke up this morning and realized this story was like, huge. Still not 100,000 words. I can't belive I only have ten chapter left of this story! McBoogle will be exterminated in the chapter after this I am afraid. This chapter is a little shorter, but I just noticed that I hadn't updated in a while and I am going to out watching Pirates of the Carabiean II again tonight. I have a slight obsession with Johnny. Now I know I am always seem to say this, but there really Is some pretty huge hidden stuff in this chappie. Not kidding guys, if you start lo0oking hard I think you might be able to see where this is going. Maybe not, but I would loev top hear what your'e thinking. So R&R please.

Your reviews make a huge difference.

Thank you everybody who reviewed my last chapter, I was afraid that no one would as I hadn't updated in months. You rock.

I have a list at the end of the chapter, along with some authors notes and answers to some reviewers questions.

(8)(8)(8)

Dumbledore sat behind his oaken desk, drumming his fingers against his temple. Puzzling. What had once been rather a worrisome mystery had turned into a plague, that didn't leave him whilst he slept. He had to find Harry, the noble boy he knew, who had always been put down. Harry, Gryffindor to his very soul, his worlds savior. It made Dumbledore sick to think of the boy, alone and afraid, hurt or dying.

"Professor?"

Dumbledore looked up. Hermione Granger face eager, fell. "I'm sorry, the weight of my worry seems to have distracted me." He smiled for show.

Hermione nodded, nervously. "I,..Professor...have you found anything, well at all, that I could help with." She stopped and then jumped. "Not that I think you need my help, you're a great wizard, I..I just..." She stopped looking terrified.

Dumbledore raised his aged hand. "Do not fret." He paused while she wiped her lips. " I will not lie to you, I have discovered very little."

Hermione closed her eyes, as though Harry's verdict had been reached. Dumbledore tried not to let despair into his face. His features were stained with the numb horror of their current predicament. He waited patiently. Finally, she whispered. " I...but you have discovered something."

Dumbledore paused, he watched her silent form, her eyes shut to his face. She gave a slight sob, and opened her eyes, brown and determined fire burning deep within them. Dumbledore smiled, his first real smile since Harry had gone. "Indeed miss Granger."

(8)(8)(8)

Harry had had a rather pleasant vacation, but he wasn't entirely unpleased about the start of term. Classes began that Monday. The wind howling, the snow billowing about.

Harry wasn't happy about potions first period, and care of magical creatures second period seemed rude. Harry ate his lunch, trying to ignore Malfoy sniffing next to him, his nose red, and his cashmere scarf tattered, snow still in his platinum blonde hair.

Harry had never been so happy for a transfiguration class, so when the bell rang, Harry grabbed his bag, and the end of Malfoys robe, sending him into a sneezing fit.

"You ok?" Harry, asked, noting how clammy he seemed to look.

Malfoy looked up, a look of great disgust on his pale features. " Malfoys were not made for weather like this."

Harry smirked, thinking of Draco. Grodsiusius followed him out of the hall. " Really, What are the teachers thinking sending us out into the elements like that?"

Harry shrugged. Typical Malfoy, whining about his well being. "Suppose they couldn't just let _you_ stay in while the others braved the snow." Harry said, trying hard not to laugh, picturing Malfoy looking out at them from the library windows smirking as the rest of the class trudged back from herbology.

Grodsiusius gave him a sharp look. "You know that's not what I mean!"

Harry couldn't help believing that was what he meant. But what Malfoy believed he meant would always remain a secret.

They were approaching the end of a corridor when Harry heard voices. Harry recognized the first with a taste of bitter gall. Harry threw his hand out and stopped Malfoy in his drawling tracks. "Shhhh."

Harry listened intently.

"What where you doing then Allen?" came a strict voice, one he quickly recognized as Rufus's.

"I..I was just, you know, talking to her." Allen said fast, and Harry thought he sounded very guilty.

"You were taunting her again weren't you?"

Allen stammered. "I, no, well, yeah, but.."

"You know better then to taunt Myrtle Allen, she gets enough without you."

At this point, Harry was grinning quite widely. Harry would have had the sense to turn around but Malfoy had taken the few steps forward that hid them. " Gets enough of what exactly Weasley?" Malfoy asked, his voice cold and leering.

Weasley looked up at Malfoy and scowled. Harry started walking forward, already sensing hostility. "What, are you eavesdropping now Malfoy?" Allen spat, his ears red.

Harry stepped up behind Grodsiusius, who was smirking. Harry grinned. "Hard not to hear you Allen, You're so barbaric."

Allen looked from Malfoy to Harry, and seemed to shrink eight inches. He looked ready to say something, but Rufus had stepped forward. "Excuse me! That is hardly appropriate in the corridors." He stopped for a moment puffing out his chest. " What's you're name again?"

Harry grinned. "Potter." he said, knowing that Rufus probably knew who they both were. "This is Malfoy." He said looking over at Grodsiusius.

Rufus nodded, looking over both of them as though they were drooling delinquents. "Well Potter." he said jabbing his chest violently " Do you know what this means?" he asked, his hand still slamming the front of his robes club like with fervor.

Harry winced. "That you have the social skills of a caveman, Rufe?"

Harry watched Rufus turn the greatest shade of purple Harry had ever seen. Uncle Vernon would have taken a picture. "NO!" He was breathing heavily and Harry wasn't sure how Malfoy had managed not to laugh. "No, Potter, it means that I am a Prefect, which means I can take points from you and your...your stupid house."

Harry clucked his tongue and said, quieter still. "But you didn't take any points from Weasley for his mistreatment of poor Myrtle."

Rufus had gone so red, that the blotches on his face looked like clown makeup. Allen had walked forward and stepped in front of him. "Not funny Potter, now why don't you go do something useful you arrogant git and leave the rest of us alone."

Harry smirked. He had a point. "What where you telling Myrtle?"

Allen suddenly turned white. Harry frowned, what on earth could he have been saying? Then it hit him. Harry's smirk became lethal. Harry watched as Weasley blushed scarlet. "Don't even go there Potter, I'm warning you."

Harry blinked in avid surprise. There was definitely more here then he knew. "Go where now Weasley?"

In the blink of an eye Rufus had pulled out his wand, though it didn't look as though he wanted to use it. Still Malfoy was taking no chances. He whipped out his wand and said "Redenverta."

Rufus keeled over backwards his hands clutching his throat, gasping. Allen looked down, mingled rage on his face. He was quick to retaliate, aiming at Malfoy he managed a weak "Stupify", which missed bouncing off the stone wall and hurtling back at him.

Allens eyes went wide and he ducked. There was a mangled cry behind him, and Harry quickly yelled "Stupify" Allen fell to the floor and behind him lay Professor Marvel, who had caught Allens stray stupify in the face.

Harry gasped and rushed forward. Rage in his ears. "Renevate."

Professor Marvel coughed and Harry immediately pulled her to her feet. "Are you alright professor?"

Professor Marvel sputtered. "Potter?" She looked around and then seemed to remember that she had been hit with a stunning spell. "What on earth were you three thinking?" She demanded.

Harry was about to attempt to explain when he realized what she had just said. "We..What..Three?"

Professor Marvel turned on him, her eyes wide with anger. "WELL, I didn't seem mister Scridgemor hexing anyone!"

Harry looked back at Rufus lying on the floor purple and swelling up. Harry tried not to smirk. "Professor, he started it!" Harry exclaimed, sounding rather perturbed, a bit of a nasty look creeping into his innocent expression.

Professor Marvel however seemed to be taking in the full effects of their fight. "Throwing hexes around..On the very first day of term!" She huffed herself up, going rather purple as well. "YOU... HIT A TEACHER!"

Harry winced. Well that had taken a while to hit home. She had meanwhile begun to clench her fingers over her wand. "I'll have you all! In DETENTION!" She looked at the three of them, Allen stunned, and ridged, Malfoy sneering in distaste. "And you Potter..I expected better!"

Harry thought this was rather insulting for Malfoy and Allen but he merely nodded and tried to look abashed.

She shook herself. "Yes, I'll have you all!" She looked down at Rufus and cringed some of the anger fading from her livid features as Rufus opened his mouth and let out a gurgling noise.. "Dear me, what did you hit him with?"

By the time they reached the transfiguration classroom, they were forty minutes late. Professor Dumbledore looked up, bent over a desk. A hat he was trying to help a student with snarled, bearing it's fangs.

Harry walked straight for the seat next to Tom he always sat in and Malfoy followed, leaving a shaken Allen Weasley to walk by them. Harry sat down, and glared at his books. Detention! Why? Just because Malfoy was feeling a bit touchy he had to pay the price.

For a moment he felt a jab of humiliation. Sure. He could plan and plot. Devise and manipulate. He could murder, and somehow Allen had managed to get him in trouble. It was nonsense.

Tom gave him a rather peculiar look. Harry pulled out a piece of parchment. He looked up to see their assignments. He looked down quill poised, but something was already there.

'_Where were you?_'

Harry took quite care not to look up. He recognized the scrawl as Tom's elegant hand. Harry paused for a moment and wrote. '_Grodsiusius and I were attacked by Weasley and a Gryffindor prefect.'_

Harry was about to push the paper toward Tom, when Toms response came up through the paper, bleeding in great dollops of cursive. Much as his diary had.

'_And?' _

Harry sighed with humiliation. " _Weasley hit a professor_."

Harry looked over at Tom who was writing in his notebook peacefully. For a moment he thought he saw in his vision, surprise and perhaps humor.

(8)(8)(8)

That night after dinner, Harry sat in the common room reading.

It was completely useless. His thoughts kept straying to Weasley. The way he had gone white when Myrtle had been brought up. How odd.

Normally he wouldn't have given it a thought, but Tom would kill Myrtle before the end of the year. There was something about Myrtle that didn't seem quite right. They way she had run from Tom before break. It was strange, and out of place. Something he was growing to recognize much faster.

Looking up Harry saw Tom busy writing something, sitting on the couch. Harry looked down at the book in his hands and his stomach gave a jolt. A very familiar black leather book, with gold writing on the front.. Harry knew exactly what it was. It was the diary he had stabbed in his second year with a Basilisk fang. " What's that?" Harry asked.

Tom looked up, and then smirked. The only smirk to put a Malfoys to shame. "Oh, a Christmas present."

Harry nodded, still surprised at how sinister he could become in milliseconds. "Yeah, right."

Harry would have turned back to his book, when a thought came to him _Who seemed to know every little secret in the castle? _

He was sitting in front of him filling in a cursed diary. Harry grinned. Well, he would curse it after Myrtle died. "Hey Tom?"

Tom looked up, obviously caught up with what he was doing. "What do you know about Myrtle and Weasley?"

Tom looked at him for a moment, and look of confusion flashed through his features. "Nothing." he said, and then quite firmly he asked. "Why?"

Harry shook his head. " I don't know." He flipped the page. "Just a feeling. Something strange is going on."

He looked up and found Tom watching him intently. His cold blue eyes seemed to be searching. His brow creased. "Odd."

It took a moment before Tom resumed writing, and Harry watched as he wrote, his writing sunk into the parchment. "How do you do that?"

Harry had always wondered. Tom looked up again, this time he put his quill down. "Simple confudmental spell, with a locator." He shrugged and collected his books. "I have to go to the library, I forgot a book."

Harry nodded and turned back to his own book, not at all convinced Tom was telling him the truth.

(8)(8)(8)

The next day at breakfast, Harry and Malfoy received letters from professor Marvel. The notes were quite simple. They were to be at the front doors at ten o'clock on Thursday. Harry had almost forgotten about the detention. Next to him, Malfoy whined loudly. "Ten o'clock, what on earth could we be doing outside at ten o'clock?"

A flash of his first detention in the forbidden forest left him without words. Also accompanied by a Malfoy he had seen lord Voldemort drink unicorn blood. The next year he had nearly been killed by a giant spider, and then, in third year, nearly trampled by a werewolf. In his fourth year, a death eater had murdered in the forest and then, in fifth year, he was nearly killed by a heard of centaurs. He hoped that they did not go in the forest as it rarely did him much good. At least he had rid himself of Umbridge. Harry grinned before turning back to his eggs and tossing the letter onto the table.

Gavivi leaned across the table to grab the butter, still talking animatedly and brushed it aside. He plucked it up. "Oi Harry." he said. "It's your...detention notice?" He stated questioningly.

Harry picked it up and put it in his bag. At about the same time the record keeper entered the hall with McBoogle. She was singing loudly, and Harry had to busy himself to keep from watching. Indeed, the record keeper had been the source of much debate since the rest of the students had returned. Word was there was a betting pool between the Gryffindors on how soon she would snap. Of course Harry could have won the bet, as he knew she already had.

The ministry as a whole had been acting quite strangely lately. One of the men wouldn't eat in the great hall and McBoogle had taken to talking with the students. Asking such questions as, 'Do your fellow students talk about death?', or 'Have you heard voices in the halls at night?'

It was quite unsettling when you were trying to eat. It had become a bit of an amusing joke.

The Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables in particular had become his regular haunts. It was quite annoying To be trying to eat a muffin and have McBoogle staring at you, twitching.

Harry was beginning to savor the day he be rid the school of McBoogle. What had started off as necessity was now quite appealing.

Today, he was walking the perimeter of the hufflepuff table, his eyes observing, and shaking when people opened mail.

(8)(8)(8)

On Tuesday morning, he was back at the Slytherin table, chatting with an animated Gavivi. Harry was among many other Slytherins, glaring at him as he did so, as talking with the ministry was fast taboo.

That day in Defense against the dark arts Harry sat between Lestrange and Malfoy, taking turns glaring at Professor Marvel. Harry realized that perhaps it was not prudent to do so when she dropped her chalk and swore loudly. So they changed their sights and Allen was soon casting glances about the room, just to be sure they couldn't hex him.

In the back of the dungeon Harry made sure that he and Malfoy got a spot behind Allen so that they could mock him when he ruined his cauldron full of Peace drought. Harry was just mincing his ginger root when to his great surprise he thought he heard someone scream. He credited it with Malfoy whining as he skinned a newt tail.

He finished his potion, and received a great mark, before Tom, Malfoy and he, left for lunch.

They were stopped by a crowd of people halfway down a passageway. Harry and Tom exchanged looks as Malfoy tried to push the Ravenclaws in front of them out of the way. He had given up when Lestrange worked his way through the throng. His face was sweaty and he looked aroused by the chaos. "Attack." He hissed, and Tom beaconed him away from the din. Tom caught his eye and jerked his head to follow.

Lestrange was grinning broadly and Harry was reminded of how insane he was. "Who?" Harry asked.

Lestrange frowned. "LaPoint."

Tom looked for a moment quite appalled. Lestrange however didn't seem to notice. Harry however thought for a moment.

"LaPoint?" Grodsiusius asked. "He's a Slytherin prefect."

"Was." Harry corrected not bothering to apologize for knocking into a scuttling second year.

Though Harry said nothing, he couldn't help but run a hand through his hair. Lapoint was a pureblood fifth year. Why on earth had Tom attacked him? Harry snorted. How had he attacked him? He had been sitting next to him in potions.

Harry waited for the crowd of people to gently disperse with Malfoy and Tom. Malfoy quickly left them on the third floor so that he could bring his bag to the dungeons. It didn't seem to strike him as odd when neither Tom or Harry volunteered to go with him. The second he had left their sight Harry turned to Tom.

"LaPoint?"

Tom looked up scowling. "So it would seem."

Harry looked around. " I don't understand..why..Tom how?"

Tom just sneered, though his gaze remained from Harry he could tell he was thinking something over. "You didn't do it, did you?" Harry asked feeling a sudden ripple of fright.

Tom stopped and looked about. Finally he looked at Harry his cold blue eyes scathing. "I was going to ask you the same question."

Harry blinked. " I didn't!"

Tom's gaze cut through his mind cooly. Harry tried his best to empty his brain. Tom finally nodded. He now looked rather uneasy. "Then who?"

Harry shrugged. " We don't even know if it was the basilisk."

Tom looked about, as though he would have loved top say 'Shhhh'.

Harry was frowning now to. "Find out what happened to him." Harry suggested.

"I know that!" Tom snapped.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Sorry...Does anyone else know?"

Tom looked up. His eyes more trusting than Harry expected them to be. "Only you." He replied evenly.

Suddenly aware of how the situation must look Harry gulped. "I was with you in potions." said Harry slowly. "It wasn't either of us." Harry paused for a moment, remembering the scream he might have mistaken for Grodsiusius's never ending complaining.

Tom nodded, his eyes suddenly dark. Harry watched as he seemed to come to a conclusion and was shocked when he raked one fine hand through his perfectly neat hair. "What?" Harry asked.

Tom looked up at him, a mixture of emotions on his face. For a second Harry thought he might tell him, but then though the better of it. "I'll see you in history of Magic."

Harry watched him go feeling slightly apprehensive.

(8)(8)(8)

The next day, Harry, who had been eating a banana muffin eavesdropped on Lazard and gavivi who where talking in small whispers suggesting conspiracy.

"Yes, they took him to the infirmary."

"No, he isn't up yet, they say it looks like he may have spell damage."

"Like the others?"

"I dunno, he seems."

What he seemed like though, Harry missed when a large school owl landed on the table. It skidded into the milk jug, which shook queerly before resting several feet away.

Harry cocked a glance at it, waiting for someone to take the letter when he realized the owl was looking at him. What? He thought as he reached forward. He untied the parchment and unfolded the official looking letter. Something silver dropped onto the table, clinking on his fork.

_Dear Mister Potter,_

_As you know, fifth year student's and older are eligible for several badges of recognition at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and Wizardry. Due to unfortunate circumstances, our fine school has an eligible badge that we would like to award you with_.

Harry blinked. No way. He couldn't have. Harry plucked up the silver badge and grinned at his reflection in the large silver P that gleamed on it. He turned back to the letter, a smug sens of pride swelling in his chest.

_You have shown great amounts of leadership and scholarship responsibility in you time here and the high hogwarts staff congratulates you on you fine achievement. _

_Professors A. Dippit, and A. Dumbledore. _

Harry smirked at this piece of luck and quickly fastened the badge to his robes. The letter had a P.S.

_P.S, I wish to meet with you on Saturday night in my office to fully express you new responsibilities Mr Potter. Eight O'clock sharp if you please. _

_A Dippit. _

Harry put the letter in his book, slightly surprised that it would be in this time that he would be made prefect, something his future self had never yet accomplish. The irony was enough to make his sick.

The night in the common room, Harry sat in front of the fire, quickly working on his charms essay. Tom sat in an armchair nearby writing in the accursed diary. Harry, upon looking up noticed that the piece of paper Tom had spent a month working on was out and on the coffee table. The one he had researched Horcruxses on. Harry was about to aks him what he was doing when Malfoy sat next to him and pulled out his transfiguration book. "Hey Harry, could I borrow your book?" He asked

Harry shoved it to him without saying anything. Malfoy picked it up and flipped through the pages before stopping.

"Dear Mister Potter," he said sneeringly. Harry looked up and saw that he was holding his letter from professor Dippit. "As you know, fifth." he trailed off reading.

Tom had looked up from his work. Malfoy was scowling. " They made you prefect?" He asked, his drawl suddenly sharp.

Tom looked at Harry and Harry was sure he saw his badge. "Yes." Harry said, trying not to look to interested.

Grodsiusius looked suddenly green. "You've only been here for six months and they made _you_ prefect?"

Harry smirked. "Jealous much?"

He threw the letter onto the table. " I'm not jealous Potter." he snapped, his face glowing. " It just proves you're in good graces with Dippit, it doesn't mean anything."

Harry looked away, sure that Tom's eyes had only just left him. Harry wen to bed soon after, exaughsted and only too aware that he would be in bed late the next day. Detention with Malfoy and Weasley was bound to be a trying experience.

(8)(8)(8)

Harry spent the majority of the day avoiding not only Allen, but Malfoy too. They both made him mad. He spent his entire lunch hour agonizing over a pointless detention he hadn't earned. If he thought he would get away with it he would have gladly attacked Malfoy, and by dinner time he was so upset that Gavivi asked him if he was feeling ok.

At nine o'clock Harry stood up and stretched. Lestrange looked up from his seat on the couch, as Harry checked his watch. Harry turned and beckoned Malfoy who quickly stood up. Harry shoved his articulate essay into his bag and both and Grodsiusius left the common room.

The dungeons were freezing, and as always devoid of any good cheer. When they reached the entrance to the dungeons Harry pulled up his hood and strode rather faster then Grodsiusius across the entrance hall.

The night air was cold and lit by torches. Harry leaned against the wall, feeling the chill through the fabric of his cloak. Malfoy was looking about nervously, and this seemed to quell Harry anger. When they heard feet crunching in the snow, Malfoy jumped up and ripped around. Harry smirked to himself.

Professor Tweady marched out with a stumbling, shivering Allen. Harry rolled his eyes. Really, they were in sixth year! It was just the grounds.

Harry might have been eased by such thoughts if followed by Allen, had not been a grinning McBoogle.

(8)(8)(8)

DUNDUNDUN.

Bit of a cliff hanger. I have a list of lovely reviewers. I also feel like I need to clear up some stuff. So, I answered a few reviewers questions.

And so begins my seemingly endless list. (AHEM)

The dreams. A bunch of people guessed what they were all about and only two or three were on the right track. Some of your guesses were way off, but they were all pretty sweet. I really liked Fahzzyquill's idea. It almost makes sense. I almost want to use it. But I don't think it would work with what I have planned. Special shout out to chubbypotato, and Lily's secretkeeper for neging the first to get it.

Amethyst Sylph brought up an interesting point. Does magic work on house elves? I am inclined to believe it does, because in book four, after the dark mark in conjured the ministry stuns Winkey and Barty in the bushes. If their stunners work, I think that imperius would too. I am not sure but I decided that I would be able to use magic on the house elves. If anybody else has reason to believe otherwise let me know.

In address to questions about Harry and Tom's relationship. Is he officially a lackey? Does Tom think he is a threat.? Have I, Ohyeah100 made Harry freaking Potter Tom's butt monkey!

I wouldn't say so. I believe that Tom wishes to have power over Harry, but recognizes that they are very alike. I think he is very threatened by Harry and has therefore attempted to draw him in. I think he keeps a sharper eye on Harry. I don't know if he sees Harry as an equal, but he seems a little looser around Harry then the usual crew. I think he knows that Harry doesn't fully realize his own power.

I have already given a way more then I wanted to. It is so hard not to burst with all of my evil plots forming. I really need a beta sworn to secrecy, cuz I am just dying to tell somebody how this is gonna go down.

I shall say no more. All we be revealed. Eventually...I hope..

Just three little hints from this point forth. Watch all of those little interactions, do not trust any of the characters to be innocent, do not trust all of the characters to stick around. (Smiles sinisterly) It must be hard to believe that I am a nice person.

To reviewers who seriously make me want to finish this story. All the reviewers since..uh...like chapter 18 came out. Reviews make my day. . I am sooo sorry if I missed anyone. From now on I will reply directly. Hehe. I am sooo lazy.

**_PottersMistress6391, Barranca, Revan00, WoodCrazy, Mr.Wuff, Cka3ka13, Alwaysandforever, Julie Long, Anniecat36, ShrineMaiden, Olaf74, Jesp-R, Promios, Hpbestbook, Sci-Fri-Hpfreak, Kristina, harryginny01, Zevrillion, StarsandComets, Sorel, chubbypotato, Lily's Secretkeeper, Tobang, quality, Katt, Amethyst Sylph, Les, FK306 Animelover, Fahzzyquill, fallenangel, Silver Tears 11, DarthBill, Pfft, Ambrosius Emrys, Akeera, Moose on mars, sixpacksirius, Luna Moonlight Fawn, Atilia Dawn Black, how.to.save.a.life, Parselmaster, chichirixnoda, Veronica, ohmygawsh, Alteng, GoddessMoonLady, Styx, illuvteddygeiger, Promios, Schnuff, I-Y-T-Y, Cherri202, Lady Highschoolnerd, Taure._**


	21. Slight Emotional Detention

Yo, and I am back! LOl. Anyway. This chapter sort of shows Harry cross some lines in a way. This is chapter twenty one which means there are only nine left. This brings up a couple of options. I plan to end this story with Harry getting back to his time. So, I think there is a definite possibility of a sequel to show Harry in his rightful time. I already have some ideas for this. I just want to know what the readers think. If anyone is interested let me know, I am already beginning to plan and plot (:..Etc. If I get a good response about this though, I may actually whip out my time line and set down some ideas. I already have a few and they seem interesting. I think so at least. So anyway, as always, hope you enjoy. R and R!

)o)o)

The wind was chilled, and Malfoy was sniffing but he hadn't noticed. McBoogle grinned toothily. Harry sneered, and Malfoy standing next to him hacked.

Professor Tweady raised his lantern high and counted their heads. Harry tried not to kick snow on Allen who was standing in front of him shivering. "Alright then?" Professor Tweady asked. "Great."

If Harry had cared to be more obvious he might have twitched in protest. Malfoy as he seemed to be prone to; began to hack into the elbow of his robe. Allen stumbled his knees knocking audibly. Harry would have dared venture they did _not_ look alright. Not by _his_ standards at least.

Harry gripped his wand more tightly beneath his robes. McBoogle laughed and clapped his hand on Allens shoulder. Why was he here? Harry thought wildly. What on earth could he want? Harry blinked and felt his cold eyelids rejoice for the warmth. How had he known about their detention?

Who had known except Malfoy, Allen Tom and himself? Harry was sure he hadn't told anyone. He strained harder still as McBoogle shifted.

Professor Tweady grinned despite their displeasure, though Harry was certainly sure he could tell. "Ok everyone, listen carefully."

Harry looked up, his hair flailing in the freezing breeze. Listening. He thought bitterly.

"The task we have today, is a relatively easy operation." His face now looked rather somber by the light cast from his candle lit lantern. "Never the less, it is extremely important."

Harry tried not to tap his feet in attempt to restore normal blood flow.

Professor Tweedy continued. " Tonight we will be scouring the edges of the forest for Doxy nests."

Harry thought this was quite a bad idea, but said nothing.

"We couldn't ask for better elements either." Tweedy exclaimed.

Harry looked about the snow lashed, frozen dark grounds witheringly. Perhaps they were slower cold? Did they sleep at night? He though pityingly. He could remember reading something about them, but he hadn't really tried to memorize it. Next to him, Malfoy sniffled absently. Then, as though it had hit him like a bludger to the face he gasped. "We..we are going into the forest?"

Professor Tweedy turned looking slightly quizzical. " Well, yes, but I shouldn't think we would have to go much farther than the edge. You'll likely be able to see the castle.

Malfoy however had gone quite pale. Professor Tweedy smiled gently. "Doxy eggs are an essential ingredient in the mandrake draught we shall be brewing in June, and they must be given a chance to soak."

Harry wrinkled his nose and decided he preferred not to know what Tweedy meant by soak.

They reached the edge of the forest where Tweedy split them into groups. Harry and Allen were to go with McBoogle. Harry tried not shudder with suppressed rage.

They split into their groups and Harry and Allen moved seamlessly to the forest. Malfoy stood as still as a statue. In the pale light of the full moon he might have been petrified, if Harry had not known better. "There. Is .No. Way. I Will. Go In. The."

Professor Tweedy cut him off. "It's quite safe Mr. Malfoy."

Harry strongly doubted this. Instead he moved forward. "Common' Grodsiusius."

Grodsiusius looked at him, his hair roused by the wind, but handsomely so. "No way. There are...Werewolves in there Potter!"

Harry gave him a low look. Malfoy twitched and moved forward toward the professor. "That's the way Mr. Malfoy!" Professor Tweedy said, patting Grodsiusius's elbow.

"Don't touch me."

Harry turned around smirking. The smirk melted off his face when he saw Allen and Mcboogle waiting for him.

Bloody hell. Allen was trembling in his thin robes and Harry stomped on a queer lurch of pity cruelly. McBoogle cleared his throat angrily. "Right then, let's get some Doxy eggs."

The comment seemed out of place. What was McBoogle doing here? This was surely not his job. Then Harry remembered. Remembered the day he had received his notice, how Gavivi had picked it up. Gavivi was known for his abnormally loose tongue.

Wonderful. Harry would have to kill him last. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled. Through the trees nearby he heard Malfoy bellow. "What was that? Professor!"

Harry scowled and searched through the dim light. Harry pulled out his wand and muttered "Lumos."

Allen, who hadn't seen him stop crashed into him and Harry had to extend his hand and catch a tree to keep from tumbling over. Harry turned around and in his wand light saw that Allen looked frightened. "Watch yourself." Harry whispered, before walking deeper into the darkness.

McBoogle fell behind and began poking in bushes. Harry kept going until he could no longer hear McBoogle crunching through the tangling branches, muttering.

" Are we supposed to go this far?" Allen asked quietly.

"No." Harry whispered. "I just wanted to lure you into the dark."

Behind him Allen made a great deal of noise trying to pull out his wand.

"If you're scared, you can just go back." Harry said slowly. Allen seemed to relax a little. Harry chuckled. "You actually believed me? What could I possibly want from you?"

Allen let out an annoyed breath. "Why shouldn't I believe you?" He asked. "Half the school thinks you're probably the heir of Slytherin."

Harry had fallen silent. He meant to make it as awkward for Allen as he could. The wind swirled, and screamed. The land about them looked so un-welcoming it was amazing they were able to live in it.

Harry was about to respond, but the wind howled even louder still. This time however, there was a distinct bark to it. Something that Harry wasn't entirely sure he should give the wind credit for.

Allen shook slightly. " Maybe we should go back."

"You can." Harry said simply, knowing that Allen would be to afraid to go alone. Harry himself felt slightly more confident in his magical talents.

Allen trembling still shook his head. "I..I guess I'll just stay then."

Harry smirked deviously at him, and Harry watched him shrink back.

Then over a fresh gust of wind, there was a crunching noise in the undergrowth. Harry whipped about, his wand trained on the bushes. Allen had stepped closer to him, his own wand drawn. "What.."

Harry hissed. "Quiet."

The bushes rattled and an unstable McBoogle fell through them scratched and hostile. "Where have you two been." he snapped.

Allen blanched. "Pretty much here."

Harry smirked despite himself as McBoogle growled. Harry frowned. Growling...No he wasn't. But somewhere someone or something was. Allen paled.

Seconds later, Harry watched the look of anger wash from McBoogle's face. Behind McBoogle the snow was blocked by the unmistakable figure of a giant vicious looking creature. The full moon exposed the very angry figure of a werewolf.

Allen had gone still. His face contorted and then. "AHHHHHHHHHH." He shrieked.

He took off across the swirling track. Harry almost laughed, but decided that the imminent danger he was in held greater need of his attention. Harry watched McBoogle turn when an idea came to him.

A terrible idea. One he might never have had years ago. Without so much as a sensible thought Harry raised his wand. "Expelleramus."

McBoogle fell flat on his back and his wand flew from his hand to Harry's. Harry brain was racing. He couldn't possibly think to do what he was planning on doing. No, he had to give the wand back.

_But_... the voice in his head reasoned. _Is this even real_? _Won't it all go back to the way it would have been when he was gone_. He had done it once.

Still, it felt somehow different. There was a line here that he hadn't seen before. There was nothing to be gained. Just Tom's ease. Before he had killed to stay alive. What he was doing now was pointless bloodshed. This was what death eaters did. This was evil. This was a pointless evil. This was a job, not chore. This was a choice.

Harry debated for a moment more. McBoogle looked at him eyes wide. His face was a pale yellow in the moonlight. He was gaping.

Harry wanted to look away, but he just couldn't.

He didn't have to. He could modify his memory and try to find another way to get him out of the castle. He was sure he could.

He was more sure that this time..if he left, he would never return.

He should give him his wand back. But why? It would all go back wouldn't it. Nothing mattered. He had to return to his own time. That was all. It would all be good again. Harry shrugged.

McBoogle narrowed his eyes. "I knew it."

Harry laughed bitterly. " Yeah...It doesn't matter." Harry took one last look, before turning on his adolescent heel and running.

He ran like the wings of death were upon him. He heard the werewolf growl and then snarl. What followed was silence. Harry gulped, the snow stinging his cheeks. It would all change. It didn't matter. It wasn't real. Not if he got back.

At the edge of the forest, Harry sent up a prayer of thanks. The wide open grounds were bright and Harry thought he could hear Allen yelling. A werewolf. A bloody werewolf. All those times they had mocked both Malfoys of such a paranoid, and before tonight, unfounded fear. Harry could hardly believe it.

Allen's panicky shouting wasn't far ahead. Harry reached the grounds and found Allen doubled over in front of professor Tweedy and Grodsiusius who spotted him and cried. "There! He IS alive!"

Professor Tweedy looked up, and made a mad rush toward Harry. Harry quickly stuffed McBoogle's wand into his trousers. Professor Tweedy reached him and pulled him forward. "Are you alright?. What happened? Did it bite you?"

Harry pulled away, feeling suddenly dangerous. "Werewolf." he said quietly. I..I.." he stopped and took a deep breath. "McBoogle was in front of it, and then, I heard him yell, and I dunno, I ran.." Harry said silently. "I should have stayed..I don't know, I just ran." Harry made his face droop. He would look remorseful that way.

Professor Tweedy nodded. Still concerned, and not even a little scornful, but he looked quite old.

"You were right to run, you might have died if you hadn't. Are you sure that it didn't bite you, or hurt you at all."

Harry shook his head. "Very well." He looked quite sobered now. "Mr. Malfoy kindly fetch Professor Slughorn, and Professor Dumbledore. Mr. Weasley, would you be so kind as to send Professor Dippit?"

Allen nodded, and Malfoy scowled but said nothing, as they turned on their heels to leave. "To the hospital wing Potter, you're cut." Harry looked down and saw that he had a cut on his cheek.

Harry nodded and turned to leave, with no intention of going to the hospital wing.

Once he reached the entrance hall Harry pulled out his wand. Instead of turning to descend into the dungeons Harry walked up the marble staircase. Once he had reached the second floor, so warm and quiet after the breezy grounds he paused and fixed his cut in the glass of empty frame.

He didn't know why he didn't go to his dormitory, but tonight his feet found they craved a different path. An old one he used to use, and still knew by heart it seemed.

When he reached the portrait of the fat lady, she opened her eyes and stared at him carefully. Harry smirked. "What?"

The fat lady sighed. "Oh nothing."

Harry looked away. " It's ok, I know what your hiding."

He heard her tut loudly as he turned and walked back down a few flights of stairs. "The nerve of them." She hissed, before closing her eyes.

When he reached the second floor, he felt for the first time a need to sit down. He felt somehow tainted. As though he would never be the same again. He was a monster now. Harry walked down the hallway until he reached a window that overlooked the forest. Harry thought he could still see footprints in the raising storm. He knew Grodsiusius would reach the common room before he did. But it didn't matter. Tom would undoubtably be wondering where he was.

Harry wasn't sure how long he stood there, at the window, cold and tired. In fact, he couldn't even be sure that he had moved an inch. He just knew that when the trees stirred and Professors Slughorn, Tweedy, Dumbledore and Dippit made their way up to the castle, McBoogle did not accompany them.

This both sickened and calmed him. He had done the job then. McBoogle would not be able to tell the truth, not would he be able to rectify Hogwarts of the heir. Harry tried not to be he couldn't help it. A small smile lit his feature, and Harry was sure it did nothing to enhance them. McBoogle was gone forever from his world. When he returned to his time, he would return to this one. Harry smiled with grim satisfaction. He had done it again. He knew he wasn't evil, he felt bad about what had haed to Mcboogle. The trouble was, he got over it quickly.

When he reached the common room, no one but Tom was awake. He looked up when Harry entered his face a mask of concern and raw curiosity. "Are you ok?" He asked.

Harry smirked and walked toward him. "What happened?" Tom asked. "Malfoy said something about huge werewolves chasing him down."

Harry snorted. He pulled out McBoogle's wand and let it rest on Toms book. Tom looked down, amazed. "I only saw it."

Tom picked up McBoogle's wand fascinated. He looked at Harry in a very different way then he was accustomed to and then smiled.

Harry gazed directly into Tom's eyes before continuing." I watched them leave the woods minuets ago. They found nothing it seems."

Harry said nothing more, his mind more blank then he could ever remember being able to manage. Perhaps he could master occlumency yet then? He turned on his heel and walked up the dormitory stairs. He needed sleep if he was going to function the next day.

The first thing he noticed was that Malfoy's snores were to loud to be fully genuine and the second was his scar seemed to hurt. Harry tried not to think of it. He lay down, and fell asleep in seconds.

)0(0(

Harry awoke the next morning when Lestrange fell out of bed. So did Malfoy and Tom, who actually groaned and threatened him angrily.

Breakfast was a subdued affair. Most of the school seemed to be hearing about the night before and he and Malfoy were besieged by the Slytherins, who all seemed to have heard a story from a seventh year Hufflepuff, who had listened to Professor Tweedy. Tom, who seemed to be quite impressed with Harry kept them at bay while he ate.

Harry was happy for potions. He sat in the back and tried not to doze off. His cauldron was hot and unpleasant smelling so he managed. Transfiguration passed with relative ease.

Luckily so did charms and herbology was canceled. Harry sat with Lestrange in the library doing an essay.

The snow was still mocking them through the windows were Harry sat. Lestrange was trying to copy his without him seeing.

Harry sighed at last, and was about to tell him that he could have it if he simply asked him when he noticed a head bent low over a book. A very familiar and not often seen head. The head of Myrtle.

Harry just about yelled 'I see her!'.

Instead, he casually cleared his throat. "Take it Lestrange." He said calmly standing up. Lestrange gave him a look of pure reverence and pulled it to him.

Harry stood up and his wooden chair scraped against the cold floor. He turned to see that her head was still bobbing around the corner. Harry rushed after her. He would pretend he needed a book. That would do. Harry wasn't entirely sure what he was he was going to gain by doing so, he felt a need to. He was sure he hadn't seen Myrtle in days.

Harry walked past her calmly, and began examining the shelf purposefully. He saw Myrtle look up and blush. "Hi..Hi Harry."

Harry looked over at her and smiled. "Oh, Hi."

She looked tired, as though she had been crying. But this could hardly be knew, so he didn't bother it much.

Myrtle grinned. "I'm looking for a book on potions but I can't seem to find them."

Harry tried not to sigh. " Well, your in the wrong section." he offered.

Her lips formed a watery "Oh".

Harry grinned. " It's ok, don't sweat it. You look tired."

She blushed again. "I..I am. I have had a lot of studying lately to do lately."

Harry nodded. " That can get stressful." What studying? Did she need makeup work? Harry didn't have any studying he had to be doing.

She nodded. "I go for walks at night, it sort of clams me down."

Harry cropped an eyebrow. That was rather sad. Myrtle shrugged. "The shelf is over there." Harry pointed.

Myrtle shook her head happily. "Thanks..Harry." She smiled at him and walked away.

Harry stared at the book in his hands. He just couldn't place it. Perhaps he had finally lost his cool. There was just something about her, so sweet and pathetic that made his guilt radar scream. Something was amiss. He was sure. He thought of the Myrtle he knew. Deceased and prone to watching the prefects bathe at night. Harry shivered. Pathetic or not, she was an odd girl.

The day passed calmly. Lestrange was in a good mood and kept offering Harry licorice wands, that Harry, having been in Slytherin for months now, knew good mood or not, it would be incredibly unwise to accept one.

At seven thirty, Harry put his books away and prepared to leave for his meeting with professor Dippit. He was only slightly uneasy. He thought there was a chance that the events of the previous night might be discussed, and he wasn't particularly looking forward to it.

Harry left a few minuets early, so that he could ensure he would be on time, and pocketing his wand, saw no one as he passed through the great hall. He scaled the staircase, and by the time he had reached the correct floor, he was feeling a little sick. He reached the statue of the gargoyle and opened his mouth when an awful thought occurred to him. He didn't know that password.

Harry stood with his mouth open, still moving like a goldfish. He must have mentioned the password in the letter he had received.

Harry had left it all the way back down at the common room. If he went to get it now he would be late. But as it was, it looked as though he wouldn't be getting in at all.

Harry let out a growl. "Fizzing Wizzbee's?" if he hadn't of know better, he would have thought that the gargoyle had given him a disdainful look.

"Acid pops." Nothing.

Oh god. Harry didn't even recall Dippit giving him the password. Harry was about to yell, when someone came rushing up behind him.

A glance at their shocking blonde hair and Harry knew it was Malfoy. "Hey." he said quietly.

"Professor Slughorn just sent me to get Dumbledore."

Harry who, though quite busy thinking of what a idiot Dippit was heard what Malfoy had said. "You want professor Dumbledore?"

Malfoy smirked. "Yeah, he is in the heads office." He turned to look at the gargoyle. "Ravenclaw."

The Gargoyle began to turn and Harry felt a tide of both anger and immense relief. They both stepped onto the staircase and let it bring them to the landing. Harry walked toward the oak door, when he heard both Dippit and Dumbledore on the other side.

"If you'll excuse me Dumbledore I have a meeting with Mr. Potter soon."

Dumbledore was quiet. "Ahhh, yes, about his new position as prefect. I fear I must express myself once more."

Harry heard Dippit sigh. "Yes, yes, You know I have nothing but respect for you professor, but lately I question your judgement of character. Tonight Harry, a model student, just last night Tom Riddle who."

Harry cut them off by knocking. Malfoy fixed his hair and Harry looked down at his robes. Good as it got.

The door swung open, and Harry took a confident step inside. The step of someone who had not left an official in the freezing woods. "Professors?" Dippits hands were raised in gesture and Dumbledore stood solemnly.

Malfoy walked in behind him looking smug. "Professor Dumbledore?'

Dumbledore looked at him. "Yes?"

He smiled genially. "I was just with professor Slughorn, and he."

Dumbledore nodded. " Oh yes, he had mentioned that he might need my help." Dumbledore smiled and moved past Harry toward the door.

Professor Dippit smiling charmingly. " Thank you very much Mr. Malfoy."

Malfoy exited with Dumbledore, leaving Harry and Dippit alone. "Please take a seat." he smiled. Harry drew up a chair and sat down. He imagined Grodsiusius felt as though he had been denied of importance.

Professor Dippit leaned forward. "Now, I called you here today to discus your new position as prefect, but if there anything else that you wish..to speak about, I welcome you."

"Else?" Harry asked, trying his best impression of casual-Tom.

Professor Dippit, though slightly abashed leaned forward. " Your recent ordeal in the forest?"

Harry looked down and then looked back up. " I don't know what to say. I was afraid sir..I ran." Harry felt a sick sense of pride rather then guilt as Professor Dippit seemed to soak up the lie.

Dippit nodded, though he looked a bit disappointed. " Right you did Potter." He sighed. "I don't know what I would do if I had to report a student death, on top of all of these attacks. It could be quite hazardous to the school at this point."

Harry nodded, a blind sense of wonder had come over him. "Then..then the ministry is pulling out".

Professor Dippit rubbed his eyes. "I'm afraid so. Between the loss of their leader, and their record keepers sudden madness, it seem's the odds were against them my boy."

Harry had to stop himself from smiling. Could only Dumbledore see how suspicious this looked? Harry smiled grimly "I'm sorry I wasn't able to do more for..him.".

Harry watched his professor fidget. "I'm sure you did what you could."

There was a moment of silence. Harry's of faux relief, and Dippits of bonding. "Professor?" Harry asked.

Dippit smiled. "What Harry?"

Harry looked into his eyes, his mind clear of anything but innocence. "You said you wanted to discuss prefect's details in the letter you sent me?"

Professor Dippit clapped his hands. "Of course!"

Harry left professor Dippits office an hour later with a promise that if he needed any help at all he could always contact him. Harry felt much better. Quite relived. Something he hadn't felt for a long while now.

He reached his common room without any trouble. He felt the patrol schedule in his pocket and grinned. He knew being made prefect wasn't the biggest deal in the world, but Harry couldn't help but smirk. Dumbledore had never awarded him a badge in his rightful time, and though he understood why, it had always bothered him a bit. Surely he was capable, he thought. Hadn't he stopped Voldemort during finals week several times?

Harry climbed through the portrait hole and went straight to bed, he changed into pyjamas, and got under his blankets. Harry closed his eyes, but found he had far to much to think about. Instead he pulled out a book and tapped his wand. "Lumos."

By the light of his wand, he began to scan pages of Tom's elegant handwriting. It was funny how he seemed to be able to figure everything out. Harry remembered his quest to learn about Horcruxses. How even Slughorn had not known the spell...

Harry stopped, his breathing suddenly ridged. There in bed, in the dark, a terrible thought came to him.

(0(0(0

MUAHAHAHA. Cliff hanger. Ok, so yeah, Harry does some bad stuff, Myrtle is suspicious, Dippit is a sucker, Dumbledore dosn't trust him, Tom is impressed, and Harry is pretty lost, having just discovered something. There are a couple of other pieces of foreshadowing, though more subtle in here. Everybody seems to have something going on. So if something looks funky to you...it probably is. So please review! I may update faster. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Anyone with intrust in the sequel, drop a line. I am really starting to get into it. The next chapter of this story will be an improtant one.

Stuff about Tom, and some more insight into the dream


	22. Tom and Dumbledore get sneaky

Hello everybody

This chapter was a long time coming, I know. But I have started a small chain of events that I hope works out nicely. School started and sucked up all of my time. It's really pretty scarey. Physics is always scarey I have been told So I hope that I can keep my chapters coming in a timely sort of way. Reviews are lovely and actually, often aspire me to write. On another note, I am re-editing my chapters up until, chapter nineteen I think. If anyone wants a chapter let me know and leave me an email address to send them to. I will give big public shout outs- or pep rallies if you prefer- to anyone who helped! I have a lot of homework and I am pretty sure I ripped a tendon in my foot during gymnastics, so lord knows how busy this week will be.

I still have eighteen chapters left. The first chapters are likely to be the worst. My only defense is that I was thirteen when I wrote the first chapter and I only recently got a functional spell checker. So, if your feeling particularly brave volunteer for some of the first ones.

In other news..The sequel is officially a plan to be ste about soon. I am actually pretty exited about it. I have a lot of ideas and it should be a nice follow up...right until the confrontation with voldemort. It might be a little shorter then this one..but I hope it comes out well! It is still in the early stages, so if anyone has any requests, let me know..I love new ideas!

I HAVE AN IMPORTANT NOTE at the end of the chapter. You need to read the chapter before you read it, so please do!

Please R&R!

000

In a world where terrible thoughts were frequent, this was particularly terrifying.

Harry sat for a moment more as his mind whizzed, surpassing his normal patterns of thought. In a flash of genius he was not accustomed to. In a bizarre twist of book and mind his thoughts came back to Horcruxses. The result was absolutely petrifying.

How could Dumbledore not have seen? How could he still not know a thing? Harry was gasping for breath now. That diary. The memory. Since when did a memory learn to manipulate, to desire life?

Memory? It didn't, he decided plainly. Harry sat in a moment of subdued clarity. He would have bet his potions grade that the diary was a horcruxe.

How could he have gotten the spell? Slughorn didn't know it, Harry remembered. He couldn't make a horcruxe, not yet at least.

Harry found he could no longer sleep. The thought of resting now seemed funny, compared to the great sense dread in his gut. The conclusion that Tom could live forever made him shaky.

Harry got out of bed, his feet slapping the cold floor. He stumbled blindly to the door and swung it open. Behind him Malfoy groaned.

Harry shut the door and walked toward the fire. It had faded in the hearth now, creating a reflection on the vaulted ceiling that both terrified and enticed him. Harry sunk into an armchair.

If he was right, which he was quite certain he was, then Harry really could not defeat Voldemort. Not now, not later. He was invincible. Truly. Harry would have to find the horcruxe, assuming he made only one and destroy it without him knowing. he shivered violently.

He was so screwed.

Harry slammed his head back against the armchair in frustration.

"Are you alright?" Came a rather amused voice.

Harry jumped. "Tom." he hissed, inadvertently making the change to parsletounge in his annoyance. "Don't you ever sleep?"

Tom seemed to consider the thought for a moment. "Why bother?"

Harry smirked despite himself. It was so typical. Thinking he was above such everyday needs.. "Everybody has to sometime." Harry commented, keeping his voice as low as he could.

Tom sneered. "I suppose so."

Harry looked up and met his cold blue eyes. Harry tried very hard, but he just couldn't seem to be afraid. He knew he should. Tom's eyes were as hard as murder, but he didn't quake. He could look straight ahead. It was almost as though it didn't matter. Harry would be killed anyway, why be afraid?

Something flickered in Tom's face and he looked back down, the faintest of smiles on his face.

Harry wanted to fear him. He did fear him. He just couldn't look away. Some streak of awful bravery and pride seemed to want to surface right here in the slytherin common room, and in him. Something shockingly Gryffindor. Harry almost laughed. Gryffindor. Had he ever been? Was he still? What would his friends do if the knew him today?

000

1996 Dumbledores Office (An- there is a lot of time changing in this chapter..So I'll let you know what year it is if it changes suddenly.)

Dumbledore paused, his lips quivering, his crooked nose twitching. How had he lost Harry Potter? The sweet boy he had dedicated himself to protect? How could this have happened?

In short, the great wizard was rather stumped. He looked down at the map, willing his facial muscles to stop wobbling. He could feel the traces of magic on the map. He could read the imprint of a will spell. But the question was, what was it that Harry had willed so fully? He had no way of knowing. Absolutely none. " I just don't see Fawkes." he voiced aloud.

Hermione granger had provided some insight to his plight, but nothing that could possibly remedy the horrible dilemma he found himself and the wizarding world in.

He had remained in his office for the last few days. He hadn't touched a crumb of food, or slept a wink in two days. His old body was aching, but he was sure if he stayed he would think of something. The mass of thoughts swelling in his mind hadn't yet failed him.

Then, as though he had willed it to be, an idea struck him. A great and terrible idea. His old nose turned up to look at the wall. "Phineus!" He cried. "Go now, down to the kitchens and alert the house elf Dobby." He paused. " I wish him to be in my office as quickly as his legs can carry him."

Dumbledore had at least one idea left. Oh how manicly he was hoping this one would hit the run.

000

1949

When Harry awoke the next morning his heart was heavy. Tom would learn to become un-killable and someone other than himself and Tom was attacking students. All in all, it wasn't the best way to start the morning. It was not however, the Horcruxses that preoccupied his mind that morning at breakfast, but their mystery attacker.

He was nibbling on his toast when an idea hit him. It could be Malfoy! He was kind of pissed off at him. Yes that was it...Malfoy!

Then he reconsidered.

No, it wasn't Malfoy ...Lestrange?

No.. that couldn't be...no...

And so it continued until Tom put his bag down hard on the end of the table. The butter dish quivered and the milk sloshed up the sides of the jug.

Tom pulled a face and Harry looked at his overstuffed brown bag. Sighing, he looked back at his toast. It was probably stuffed with books on how to stretch his soul, Harry though nastily.

A sick smile fell onto his face. If this wasn't the secret he had been sent back in time to discover, then he really couldn't wait to find out what the real secret was.

Harry looked up and noticed that Tom was staring at him, unnerved.

Harry smirked wider. Tom might be evil, and a genius, and not have morals, or limits, but Harry had something he didn't. Something much more important.

Harry had knowledge that Tom couldn't possibly have yet. He had seen things that Tom hadn't and best of all, he knew the outcome of their actions. He knew the future. he couldn't see how he hadn't realized this sooner.

Suddenly, Harry felt rather chipper. He might not be as screwed as he thought. Perhaps not even close.

Harry stood as the bell rang, a rather perturbed Tom still watching him in a funny way. "Tom." Harry asked as they ran up a long flight of stairs.

"Huh?" asked Tom as he checked his watch.

"Did you ever find out who attacked the prefect?" Harry said again.

Tom shook his head. "Nothing certain. "

Harry held open the tapestry so that Tom could dart ahead of him. "You don't have any ideas."

Tom came over funny for a moment. "None."

Harry raised an eyebrow. He said nothing more until they reached history of magic. By the time he had withdrawn a scroll of parchment and a quill he had decided that perhaps, if information was such an important piece, it was time to find out what happened to the fallen prefect.

When the lunch bell rang Harry joined the throng of weary students, wilted from a double history of magic lesson. Harry's eyes were sore and there was a faint buzzing in his left ear. The ceiling was a dull harmonious grey, furling like smoke against the rafters. Harry yawned widely and reached for the salt. Before his hand could grip the shaker, another, smaller one darted forward and seized it.

Harry looked up intending to do the unfortunate body of that hand real damage. His eyes found the eyes of a second year boy, grinning bodily.

Harry, who hated to admit it found his anger ebb away. "Hand over the salt Black."

Adolphus started shaking large amounts of salt into his chowder. "When I'm done."

Harry bit his lip in vast impatience. "Any day now Black."

Harry watched him smirk. "Sure thing Harry." He handed him the salt and Harry couldn't help but grin. There was something that so represented the better side of the Black family, that Harry couldn't help it. Though the memory of Sirius was still painful, it wasn't exactly like he was looking at him.

Harry was about to say something, when someone slammed themselfinto the seat next to him, a loud and squirmy someone. Harry dropped the salt shaker in alarm.

"Hey Harry, whatcha doing?"

Gavivi's wide eager face was spread before him. Harry sneered.

He still felt rather sore about Gavivi. Ever since he had told McBoogle about his detention. Though it had worked out in the end, it was still a foolish thing to do. Harry was aware that anything he said to him was likely to be repeated.

When the bell rang, Harry quickly slipped away from Gavivi and walked quite quickly down the west corridor. When he heard footsteps behind him he turned around quickly to tell Gavivi to scram, when he saw it was still Adolphus Black.

Harry sighed. "Why are you following me?"

He shrugged. "I dunno."

Harry rolled his eyes as they walked through the crowd of people swarming around defense against the dark arts. Harry swerved around them toward the library. "Don't you have class?"

"No."

Harry pulled on his bag to keep it from dropping. "Don't you have anything else better to do?"

Their was a pause. " No. Not really I guess."

Harry stopped short as a group of girls trailed by. Harry watched Myrtle saunter by, her head down, pointedly not looking at a sallow skinned girl with horn rimmed glasses. Harry wanted to say her name was Olive Homer...something that went that way. Hornbie maybe?

Harry watched her walk by. She looked up and their eyes met, before she looked back down, terrified.

Harry felt the smirk he knew so well blossom. "Ok, well, if you're that boring, I suppose you could, no.."

"What?" asked an eager Adolphus.

"Trail her." Harry pointed after the group of girls. "Follow the one with dark hair."

Adolphus groaned. "Not moping Myrtle!"

Harry nodded his head. "Yeah, Miserable moaning moping Myrtle." Adolphus looked horrified. Harry smirked triumphantly.

Harry nodded after her. "Keep an eye on her for me and I'll let you eat lunch with me."

Adolphus suddenly looked up. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "Just lunch, mind you." He shot at the look of estacy on Adolphus's face.

Adolphus seemed delighted. "Deal Potter."

Harry watched him walk off, feeling suddenly depressed. Lunch..as in everyday? What on earth was he thinking?

Reaching the library, Harry slipped off toward his usual spot and sat down. He was half way through his potions homework when Lestrange and Malfoy spotted him and sat down. Harry was dotting an awkward 'I' When he heard the table creak and Malfoy sat down. They were emensed in a conversation about the Ministry.

"Yeah...saw them this morning." Lestrange said conspiratualy.

Grodsiusius grinned. "Packed in the middle of the night then?"

Harry looked up, ink dripping from the end of his pen. "What?"

Malfoy looked over at him and smiled. "The ministry cleared out..apparently the heir has them running out of this place."

Harry smirked. "You don't say?"

Lestrange leaned forward.. "I heard some fellow named Buck appealed to the headmaster after the last attack. It took them a few days to clear out entirely."

Harry grinned. "I figured."

Lestrange laughed. " I guess a monster was all it took then."

Malfoy looked about and then leaned forward. " That's not how I hear it."

Harry felt his eyes widen. "What?"

Lestrange's eyes went wide. "Yeah?"

Malfoy leaned forward. "Medi-witches couldn't find spell traces on that prefect."

Harry felt his stomach groan. "What do you mean?"

Malfoy grinned. "It means that the heir of Slytherin..whoever it is, doesn't need a monster. He must have actually attacked the bloke."

Harry almost sighed. So they didn't suspect anything. Lestrange however was laughing. " Pretty soon all the mudbloods'll be gone with this heir around. It'll be just us soon." He paused to smirk. "I think I like this guy's style."

Harry frowned and looked down at his essay. There were so many strange factors here, and none of it was piecing together. Harry reloaded his quill and got up to look for a reference book.

Someone other then Tom was attacking people then, Tom hadn't lied. If they hadn't found any traces of a spell, then it couldn't have been the basilisk.

Harry reached the restricted section and began to search through the tomes. Who else had the motive? What had it accomplished? A pureblood attacked... Harry's thoughts trailed off as he searched the shelf more persistently. He knew he had left _Moste Potente Potions_ here. After several moments of search Harry left the shelf and walked back to his table...Tom must have checked it out.

Malfoy was sitting on the end of the table talking animatedly with Lestrange. "Nah, He wouldn't attack Dumbledore."

Lestrange raised an eyebrow threateningly. "Why not, bloke just wanders about the school at night. I saw him last night and he gave me detention."

Dinner was a bit of a strange affair. Adolphus was sitting across from Myrtle leering, every so often asking for the salt, and then looking at Harry. Harry shot him a menacing look and then returned to his soup. Stupid git couldn't have been more obvious.

The next day, Harry sat in potions yawing. He had been forced to get up early so that he might finish his bloodstone essay. His cauldron was scorching hot, and to top of his sentence, he was partnered with Allen Weasley.

Allen was unnessicarily clumsy and when he dropped his cats eyes, Harry instructed him to 'Sit down and shut the hell up'.

Allen had given him a weary glare, and plopped down in his chair. When the lunch bell rang Harry was the slowest to exit the classroom. While his fellow students were running to a savory meal, he, Harry was marching to an entire meal with Adolphus. Harry walked slowly, as though to his execution and when he sat down he did it with much contempt.

When Adolphus entered the hall he rushed over to Harry grinning. Harry sighed, accepting his fate.

"Hey Harry." He grinned. "Accepting your fate yet?"

Harry sighed. " Don't flatter yourself." Adolphus smirked. "So what did you find out about Myrtle?"

Adolphus groaned. "Only that she might just be the most boring person ever." Harry gave him an angry look. "Ok..Um, she likes to read, and doesn't like Olive Hornby."

Harry looked at him flatly. " That's it? Some spy you turned out to be."

Adolphus frowned. "There is just nothing worth spying for Harry, she is as clean as it gets."

Harry looked down at his salad. He had finally hit a dead end. A very dead end. If Myrtle was clean, then he didn't know half of what he thought he had. Harry sighed. "Alright, Adolphus, keep an eye on her ok?"

000

1996 Dumbledores office

Dumbledore could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The elf's ears were sagging and he could just see the tops of his scabby knobbly knees.

"Professor Dumbledore wished to see Dobby?" His voice was a quiver and his wide eyes were eager to please.

Dumbledore smiled calmly. The map had worked a will spell, so another will spell must be worked. Dumbledore had no idea what Harry might have wished for. All Dumbledore knew was that Harry was no longer safe at home. He was most likely scared and confused. Therefore, Dumbledore could not will himself to see Harry. What he needed was someone who truly wanted to see Harry uncomfortable and possibly in mortal peril.

Someone who would wish to see Harry scared and alone.

Severus, however, was on an assignment. No, he simply wouldn't do. Dumbledore closed his eyes and smiled gravely at the horrors his plan entailed. There was only one other in the school he could trust would want towill it so strongly that Dumbledore might be able to use the map as a type of astral projection.

He needed someone eager to see Harry in pain and willing to spend at least an hour out of their body to do so. "Dobby, please go to the dungeons." said Dumbledore slowly, "and fetch me Mr Draco Malfoy."

Dobby blanched for a moment. "Mr..Mr..."

Dumbledore smiled genially knowing how hard this might be for the poor elf. Ho nodded. "Mr. Malfoy."

Dobby at last gulped and vanished with a pop. Dumbledore relaxed considerably. Now, to present an agreeable argument with the youngest of the Malfoy line. Not the most preferable choice, but he would make do. He had to know that Harry was still well, and alive.

000

1949 Hogwarts

The next few days for Harry were bad ones. Homework had tripled since the end of the holidays, and classes were beginning to take up time. Harry had a lot on his mind, and it seemed, not much time to think about what was bothering him.

Horcruxses, Myrtle and unknown attackers... It wasn't an easy jigsaw, that was for sure. Harry barely made time for schoolwork these days. January was fading and the days were a stiff kind of cold, not as fresh as they had been in December. Most of his time was spent in the library, where he was supposed to be doing homework.

Or at least that was what he was trying to do, for more times then he could count he had started reading a book, and an hour later he found himself completely zoned out, watching thin air, his book tilted away from his eyes. It wasn't until one Saturday, the first in February, that Harry found his hint.

He was in the library researching the twelve uses of dragons blood in arithmency for Lestrange, when Tom and Grodsiusius walked by, stopping for a moment to look at a shelf. Tom looked up and saw him, and they both headed for his table. "Hey." Harry muttered, pulling down and reading an index of a small book, bound in leather and thread.

"Hey." Grodsiusius said solemnly. There was a pause in which he paled. "Damn, I haven't done my potions."

Harry raised an eyebrow. " It's due in an hour or so."

Malfoy got to his face, wild with determination and charged the book shelf aside his. Tom watched his disdainful. "_Really_ Grodsiusius." He sneered.

Harry looked over at him, surprised. "You're in a foul mood." Harry noted modestly, replacing his arithmency book.

Tom looked up at him, and Grodsiusius looked at him flabbergasted. Tom smirked and began going through his bag. " Yes I am." He said rather pointedly.

Harry shrugged. He pulled off a second book of dragons blood dictionary. What you would want a dragon's blood dictionary for was beyond him, but if it had Lestranges answers in it, he would be happy.

Harry turned around with the book in his hand, having found what he wanted, to find Tom watching him. "What are you doing?" He asked. "You don't take Arithmency." he stated.

Harry snorted. "It's Lestranges. He wanted me to look something up for him."

Malfoy looked up. "You do that?" He asked suddenly interested.

Harry gave him a foul look. "I'm tempted to give him the wrong answers anyway." Harry smirked. " I don't even think that he would notice."

Tom looked up a look of amusement on his annoyed features. Malfoy looked down, as though he wasn't sure he wanted help with his homework after all.

Harry walked back over to the table, coping down Lestranges table. Tom had pulled taken out an old book in mermish and a very familiar sheet of paper, covered with his neat handwriting, miles of it.

Harry glanced at the piece of paper for a moment. "God what is on that thing?" Harry asked. " I've seen this piece of paper an even dozen time since christmass. No project takes that long."

Or at least no school project harry thought. But then, what else could Tom be working on...

Harry felt it sting him hard. He felt himself twitch at his stupidity. Harry quickly looked down, both fear and realization running through him. The Horcruxses... Slughorn didn't know the spell...So Tom was writing it over. ...

Harry felt himself shake slightly. Harry closed his eyes and attempted to focus on the table he was supposed to be tracing. So he wasn't so far from making a horcruxe. But, he couldn't make it until Myrtle was dead...could he? The diary had known about Myrtle... So what was taking him so long? Was the spell not done? Harry found himself gulping. Tom was watching him again. Harry trained his face on a simple emotion...frustration as he copied down Lestranges notes.

000

Meanwhile...1996

Draco entered Dumbledores office behind Dobby scowling. "You actually kept MY old elf!" He asked in shameless disbelief. "Foul."

000

Ok, So who doesn't want to see Dracos expression when he see's Harry sitting with lord Voldemort and his pansy grandfather? Lol, It's coming up in the next chapter. I would just like to add, that Draco will only be a projection, like in a pensive...He won't really be there. He will only be there for one chapter...This isn't a new character addition. I just needed Dumbledore to get something right.

I just felt like I had to say this so people didn't get confused. So please review and or get back to me about taking a chapter to edit if you are interested in helping.

In other news, the vastly intelligent Onlytomriddle wouldm like to add that the word prat wasn;t around untill 1961. She is just smart like that. So I am requesting a pardon from anyone who noticed it.

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed.


	23. Tom & Dumbles get sneaky together

IMPORTANT-Read both authors notes.

(AN number 1)

Ok, so this one took a while. Can you say writers block? Well I can. This chapter is largely in Draco's POV. When it switches, I inform you so there is no confusion. There are some important parts, but this also preps for the next chapter, which I personally, think is a big one. Oh, and to clear up confusion, any reference to malfoy in 1949 is to Grodsiusius. Oh, and I would like to apologize for the map. Yes, the map is a corny little bit. But I have to use it.

Beta'd... but quickly. LOL.

Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to my reviewers. Cuz, word has it, I have some of the best.

You all help me to keep this going.

Dumbledore's POV

* * *

Dumbledore smiled genially. "Yes Mr. Malfoy please sit down." 

Draco blinked slowly, as though expecting an attack, his stance hard and positioned, yet casually lazy. "You want me too...sit down?" he asked sneeringly.

Dumbledore sighed. "Surely I didn't mean for you to stand there all night."

Malfoy blushed, and making no further objections sat down. "What do...Sir?" He finally asked, pained by Dumbledore's presence, "Why am I here?"

Dumbledore smiled gently. " I merely called you here so that we might be able to discus your rather unsavory charms grade."

Malfoy blanched. "What?"

Dumbledore laced his long fingers together, his heart beating placidly despite all the adrenaline rushing through his system. " I meant to discuss this matter with you days ago, but I have been rather busy you see.."

Draco leaned back in his seat, in an imitation of what he must have thought was casual. "Really?" he asked, his furtive eyes sweeping Dumbledore's desk.

Dumbledore began to shuffle his paper work, his voice in monotones. "Yes, well, I'm afraid Mr. Potter has found himself in a spot of trouble." Dumbledore saw a look of feral interest beam in his cold grey eyes. Dumbledore's old nose twitched sadly.

Malfoy cleared his throat and sat forward on his chair. "Oh..really?" He asked, enviously clenching his fingers, hoping for more.

Dumbledore sunk into his chair. "Yes well, what else is new these days?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Malfoy was by this point, on the edge of his seat, torn between disbelief and gratitude for his low charms grade. Dumbledore stood and sighed. "I've been working on ways to contact him for some time now, but I am afraid I have been met with some difficulty, I suppose I need a students help, I shall of course inquire amongst his friends." he paused. "Though I am sure they must be very busy with their schoolwork."

Malfoy was edging toward Dumbledore's desk, his eyes moving quickly, his serpentine brain whirling.

Dumbledore sighed in desperation. "I suppose I shall offer it to them as an extra credit project, perhaps then miss Granger would make time for it."

Draco's eyes suddenly shone. Then, with much controlled resolution he pulled himself backward, into the soft folds of his comfy chair. "Well, you know I would normally _hate_ to help Potter professor," he stared his eyes the picture of mock innocence, " But since it is an extra credit project and my charms grade is so pitifully low..." He drawled, his eyes watching the unmoving headmaster.

Dumbledore's eyes suddenly came a live with a joyous if not mischievous smile. "I was rather hoping you might say that Mr. Malfoy."

Malfoy smirked, for in his mind, he had just fooled one of the smartest wizards in Britain.

Harry's POV

* * *

Harry spent most of the day in the library. The day was unusually snowy, and late flourishes of flakes were battering the windows into their stone frames. 

He had been there for quite some time. He had seen the drifts build up and then melt away in the wind. His head was a flutter with dark spells and the imagining of sick wizards from many years ago. His table was papered with the liter of twenty some odd books , and still he had found nothing new concerning Horcruxses or how they were made.

Behind him he could hear the muttering of the librarian, knowing he must look much like another dark haired Slytherin prefect had once.

Desperately searching through tome after tome for a spell he knew he would have no luck finding. It was really a useless case. He was merely hoping that something would jump off of the page, a last attempt to warn him, as it did for Tom. Something that hinted the way such a spell could be created.

He knew he would never find it, deep down he was sure, but he was equally as sure he would never give up. It was far too important to forget about and he had spent his entire afternoon paying tribute to this disturbing truth.

He wouldn't be another victim of lord Voldemort. Another helpless wizards to fall to their knees at the feet of his disturbed classmate and friend. Voldemort was an evil genius with unknown motives and slim morals, but as far as Harry could tell he was only human.

He was not yet a monster. He was the protégée of an evil man, whose simian face he hadn't ever seen more clearly then the gigantic rock from that bore his features in the chamber of secrets. As Harry sat in the library, perhaps quite as mad as Tom himself, he knew he would find the spell, or else find out how Tom had made it. Horcruxe or bust.

He retired early, thoroughly depressed and perhaps more then a bit mad.

Draco's POV

* * *

Draco watched Dumbledore carefully, sure that Dumbledore was using some sort of trickery on him. He checked carefully, each wrinkle for sarcasm, the shadows under his eyes for cruel intent and came up empty handed. 

And how he hated it when his hands were empty. Suddenly rather nervous Draco repeated himself. "You...you'll let me help?" he asked, conscious of his own breathing.

Dumbledore smiled gravely, his eyes rather piercing. "In the name of extra credit of course."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Draco leaned forward again, his hands gracefully held in his lap. "Wh..what do you want me to do?" he asked lamely.

Scowling he recovered. "That is, I want to know what you would like me to do."

Dumbledore's eyes softened for a moment. Draco felt his Adams apple bob, uncertain of what he might be getting himself into.

Dumbledore continued to stare before his weary voice broke the silence. " Let me show you."

Draco watched as Dumbledore withdrew a piece of old parchment from the many leaflets that polluted his oaken space. His eyes held on that piece of parchment as Dumbledore spread it out on the polished desktop.

The wood gleamed in the low candle light and Draco found himself leaning forward to see what could be inscribed on it. What he found was both a disappointment and a greater sense of dread.

The parchment was blank, the texture of oatmeal, grainy and poor. Draco looked up, somewhat condescendingly. "Wow." he said flatly.

Dumbledore smiled to himself before pulling out his wand, holding it aloft. Draco felt a chill run up his spine while he watched Dumbledore's eyes concentrate on the paper.

The parchment very slowly began to buzz, a faint light whispering from the seams, were it had been folded many times he would have guessed. The light grew steadily stronger. Faint black lines stained the paper, the form of the lines he couldn't very well interpret. Over these black lines came the blue ones wavering and liquid. They seemed to form over the lower half of the paper, moving drunkenly. Over the blue came a set of red lines, seemingly without a pattern. They were the strangest to behold.

Spinning lazily Draco was most aware of the red lines. "What is this?" He asked matter- of- factly, sure his grandfather was rolling over in his grave as he made conversation with Dumbledore. But it involved Potter, he reminded himself, the it was sure he would receive much praise form his father when he returned with valuable inside news.

Dumbledore sighed. " I do not know what it is."

Draco scowled, a great tide of disappointment washing over him. "Well what good does that do you?" he asked irritably.

Dumbledore fixed him stare and he looked back at the paper. "What I do know," Dumbledore said, "is what it once was."

Draco sighed. It was like talking to prophet, he wasn't going to get anywhere fast. "Yeah."

Dumbledore sighed heavily this time. "It was once a map."

Draco looked back at the page seriously doubting this.

Dumbledore was now watching the parchment. "What it is now, is to be determined by you."

Draco sneered. "What?"

"It is your job to determine what the map does now." Dumbledore repeated.

Draco sneered disbelievingly. "You want me to..."

"Yes." Dumbledore smiled confidently. "It is my belief that a strong emotion of any kind should be enough." Dumbledore gripped the hard end of his wand, sure that the strongest emotion that Draco was likely to conjure against Harry tonight would not be favorable.

Draco stood up. "Yeah, where should I…." Dumbledore ushered him closer to the map.

Dumbledore paused. " I would be correct in assuming that you have used a pensive before?"

Draco was watching at him wide eyed. "Yeah." He sneered, the look of disgust not quite reaching his pale features.

"It should be much the same experience. I fear Mr. Potter has used this map to leave Hogwarts grounds." Dumbledore plowed on, his stomach gurgling. He had no idea where Mr. Malfoy would land on the other side. He could be sending him to hell and back for all he knew. And though there was an acute sense of guilt in his bloodstream, there was a great deal more worry for Harry. In short, he was failing quite miserably as headmaster of Hogwarts.

Malfoy scowled. "You want me to find out where he went on vacation?"

Dumbledore's old face was weary when he said. "Something like that."

Draco nodded, unnerved. He might have been more nervous if he had been with professor Snape. After all, Dumbledore was the headmaster, surely he wouldn't put him in any experimental danger.

Draco leaned forward and held his hand over the map. He hesitated, looking down at the swirling mass of colors, before plunging his hands down. His senses were suddenly light. There was a humming in his ears. Dumbledore's voice cut through the din "Strong emotion Mr. Malfoy, and do not fret, you shall be back within a day."

Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, anything and found it had been sealed in some way.

Potter! He was somewhere sunbathing and he, Draco Malfoy was stuck in a magical fog, a white magical fog. he squeezed his eyes shut, annoyed. He hated Potter, now more then ever, the git. He opened his eyes to tell Dumbledore he had had enough, and what he found upset him greatly.

Dumbledore sighed apprehensively as Draco's body slumped against his desk. He was gone.

Harry's POV

* * *

The morning dawned bright and brutal. The wind whipped about the cutters and snarled against the windows. During break, Harry could be found with the congregating mass of pupils huddled against the side of the castle, underneath the largest turrets. The grounds were a harsh wasteland on cold days and Harry was too busy warming his hands to notice Grodsiusius sneak up on him. 

Harry barley jumped when Malfoy jerked his shoulders and laughed. Instead, he sighed rather diligently. "Yes yes, clever."

Malfoy smirked as Harry scanned the grounds. "Look at that poor blood rat Allen." said Malfoy, pointing to Allen, who seemed to be having trouble coordinating his shoes and his bag.

Harry snorted, wondering roughly were Tom was. Allen seemed to be working his way strategically to a better angle for throwing things. Harry sneered. "Have you seen Tom?"

When Malfoy didn't reply, Harry said it again. "Grodsiusius have you seen Tom?"

Harry turned to look at Malfoy when their was still no response, impatiently. Malfoy was no longer next to him, but three feet to his right, magicking a snowball.

Harry sighed exasperated and began to move forward. He wasn't fast enough it turned out, because as he reached Grodsiusius the snowball whirled through the air, making contact with Allen's already rather foolishly red nose.

Allen blinked stupidly before making eye contact with Malfoy who grinned jovially.

Harry watched as Allen scooped up his own slop of snow and awkwardly flung it through the air. He watched Malfoy jump lowly and duck, and knew before the snowball made contact, where it was going to hit.

With a flakey smack, his world went momentarily white.

Harry blinked and slowly the snow melted from his eyelashes. He brought up one hand and scooped the snow out of his glasses and collar. Malfoy was watching him with and expression of anguish. Harry breathed in and out, trying not to curse the spit out of the surrounding crowd.

Harry looked at Malfoy who very hesitantly met his gaze. "Harry jerked his thumb in the direction of the castle. "Come on, now!" said Harry sharply, turning and thumbing snow out of his hair. Malfoy was in for some hurting, that was for sure.

Draco blinked slowly. What? He had been expecting a beach, a house, an illegal headquarters, but all he had been rewarded with was the Hogwarts third corridor. Draco rubbed his eyes and strained to see what was different. Was Potter simply stashed away in a suite of armor?

Laughing cruelly he walked forward. It was just Hogwarts. Nothing was out of the normal or wrong, though come to think of it, he didn't remember that tapestry being there…..

In fact, something was very wrong indeed. The suits of armor were varnished differently and…. as Draco explored delicately, he was frightened to hear voices coming from the stairs.

"You just had to hit him didn't you!" someone whispered, a voice Draco thought was faintly familiar.

"Oh please." another drawled. "Like you care if the blood traitor took a hit."

Draco smiled. Finally some people he could associate with. Not bothering to wonder why he didn't recognize the voices, he started forward.

He slowed as he passed a series of completely unfamiliar vases, and frowned. (not very bright is he??)

Now that he had stopped to gather he bearings, it came to him that something was indeed, very wrong. Several prickles seemed to stroke his spine. And then the voices. Draco paled as they neared. The were both very very familiar, he knew that for sure, but for some reason, hearing them together did not seem to him, that they would bode well.

He was now firmly rooted in the hallway, his breathing a little awkward. Then they rounded the corner and a small part of him fainted. The other half served to disturb him. There was Potter, and a boy who looked a good deal like himself.

Was this an alternate universe??

One in which Potter shook his hand in first year and he grew out his hair??

"Oh, come on Harry, it was funny!"

Harry shook something like a dusting of snow out of his oxford. "Yes, terribly amusing."

The blonde boy shrank back from Harry, casting weary looks at him. No, that couldn't be him. Draco sneered. He would never allow Potter to rule him. But what blonde Slytherin would? Malfoy reasoned.

They continued toward him and still neither of them seemed to have noticed him. Quite similar to the feeling of invincibility in a pensive, Draco grew bolder. He moved forward and once he drew even with Harry, he stuck out his fist.

It seemed to move straight through Harry's skin. Draco blinked and withdrew his hand. A day.

A day to snoop, privy to Harry's life.

Draco smiled. There was little he liked to do more then observe. Gather evidence that could later be used against his victims. Dumbledore had given his license to be as nosey as he pleased. In fact! The nosey the better.

Had Draco been tangible Harry would have heard his derisive laughter.

Harry lead the way past Draco down the corridor, and Draco followed, grinning.

They took a flight of stairs in long steps. Harry seemed to move with more confidence then he once had, Draco noticed. The blonde boy continued to try to appease Harry, but he was having none of it.

Between short words, Draco noticed he was clutching his wand quite tightly.

He followed them down a corridor, and left to the library. Draco paced himself with Harry, who seemed to claim more respect then the blonde.

They walked through the library until they reached the restricted shelves. From here Harry went left, past a bookshelf, and as Draco followed them, he found a table and a set pf chairs.

In one of the chairs sat a dark haired boy with a weasel like nose. One that reminded him strongly of one of his fathers friends. Harry slung himself into the seat next to him. The blonde followed him and sat on the other side of the dark haired boy.

"Come on Harry, your not actually going to the be a prick about snow are you?"

The dark hair boy looked up and then looked at Harry. Draco expected him to add in some sort of excessive insult. The dark haired boy blinked. "I wouldn't like to imagine Harry would ever be a prick with you."

Harry laughed. The blonde shot the dark haired boy a dirty look.

Harry opened his bag and pulled out a book. "Morning Lestrange."

Draco thought. Lestrange? He knew Lestrange, but this was not the Lestrange he knew. The forty year old man his father knew looked quite different. Then it hit him. This was no more an alternate universe, this was time. This was a far different Hogwarts. Lestrange? Before his uncle there was… Draco gulped and then looked between the blonde and Lestrange. Then the blonde?

Harry looked up. "Grodsiusius, grab the dictionary."

Malfoy lost his will to snoop. His grandfather? _His grandfather, his fathers father? _Draco felt saliva collect in his mouth as he watched his grandfather push the dictionary toward Harry.

What year was it then? 1950? Maybe. Draco's mouth went dry as he began a mental timeline. Nott? Yes, there would be a Nott. Parkinson? Nah, not for another decade. Draco stopped to observe Harry who was bent over his work. His eyes were dark with concentration and annoyance. He finished a paragraph, and Draco bent over to read his small script. Lestrange was peering over his shoulder as well.

"Hey Harry, is that slug horns essay?"

Harry looked up, his eyebrows cocked. "Maybe."

Something of a smirk flirted with Harry's features. Draco was suddenly awed. What the hell was wrong with this? How the hell could Harry have become leader of the Slytherins? Urgh.

Lestrange blinked before continuing. "Say, when your done, do you think I could.." He trailed off, his vision set on something behind Draco.

Draco turned around and spotted another boy. He was young, and quite handsome. Dark haired, and tall. Draco blinked. He looked a good deal like Potter. The hair was similar, he supposed, but this boys was neater. He was taller then Harry as well. He walked directly through Draco, cold and confident. He put his bag on the table just behind a stack of toadstool encyclopedias. Then, without pausing he sat down to Harry's left, and scanned over Harry briefly.

The two boys locked eyes, and Draco strained to see what was happening. Toms eyes traveled to Harry's shirt, damp from snow. Harry's eyes flicked to Malfoy, and tom grinned in a way that made Draco sure that this was the real leader of the gang.

"So Grodsiusius, been playing in the snow?"

Draco watched his grandfathers smirk in a defeated way. "Smacking mudbloods actually."

Tom smiled coolly. "Looks like you missed."

Draco smirked. This guy was alright. It didn't seem like his grandfather commanded much respect. But then, his father had never spoken highly of him. In fact, Draco had always pondered his fathers hand in his grandfathers death…it had been rather suspicious. He supposed he could see why, if his grandfather would follow Potter's example.

The new dark haired boy seemed to favor Harry too though. He gave a quick look at Lestrange before pulling out his own books.

Still, their was something about the boy that fascinated him. Draco watched the work for a moment, somehow feeling as though he had missed something crucial.

Draco sunk into the chair across from them, surprised at first that it held his weight. After a moment, Harry looked up. His face was bent in concentration. Then, Draco watched as his eyes flicked to something Tom was working on. A page of dark scribbles, and then a neater page, revised. The boy kept scribbling.

After a time, his grandfather collected his books.

Harry looked up. "Where are you going?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Find that Weasley and curse him dizzy."

Draco was almost horrified to see Harry smirk. "Tell him he is pathetic, he gets really worked up." Harry looked back down at his work, and Draco almost choked on what was left of his spit. What the hell?

Lestrange hesitated, before packing up his books too. "I'll come too, we can tell him Potter said his mother was fat."

Draco was about to slip out of his seat in a dead faint. Both Harry and the dark haired boy laughed at this.

Draco watched them leave the library and hesitated. Then he found his eyes drawn back to Harry and the dark haired boy. A Harry who hated the Weasley's?

Harry shifted a little in his seat. The, his eyes went back to Tom's work. "Still working on that are you?"

The boy looked up, and smiled. "Yeah, long assignment."

For a moment Harry looked skeptical. The boy seemed to catch this because he frowned. "What?"

Harry shrugged. "You have some secret your keeping from us."

The boy grinned. "I always have secrets."

Harry smirked. "I keep running across parts of this one though."

The dark haired boy raised his brow. He seemed both put out and if possible, interested. "Like what?" He asked.

Harry shrugged. "Myrtle for a start."

The dark haired boy relaxed a little. "Who?"

Harry looked up disbelievingly but Draco couldn't see why, the boy looked honest to him. Harry sighed. "Fifth year mudblood."

Draco rocked slowly. Mudblood, Potter? More surprising then the choice of words was the fluidity of it. Like he had been saying it for his entire life.

Tom shrugged.

Harry looked down and then looked back up, looking as though he was debating saying something. Tom looked up, almost as though he hoped Harry had more to say. "Yeah?" He prompted. Draco watched his coldly calm face take in Harry.

Harry looked back. "Ok Tom, I'm going to guess what's on that paper, and if I'm wrong, hex me."

Tom looked for a moment, like he might not like the topic, yet at the same time, it looked almost as though he hoped Harry would guess right. "Go ahead."

Draco recognized the dare in his voice he was leaning forward now, watching the two boys. Tom? Who was he? He didn't know a pureblooded Tom. Perhaps he was dead. Then again, he couldn't remember his father ever mentioning him.

Harry looked for a moment, surprised that Tom was letting him continue. "I remember you asking me about Horcruxses last term.' Harry motioned. " I took it upon myself to look them up."

Tom's grain had slipped and he was now watching Harry intently. "You think I'm taking notes on Horcruxses?"

Harry smiled. "I don't know about you, but I couldn't find much.' Harry paused at this point. " So I went to slug horn." he continued.

Tom was leaning back now so he could see Harry's whole face.

"Slughorn seemed a little nervous, like someone had already asked him some of the same questions."

Tom smirked. Harry continued. "He mentioned a school project I hadn't mentioned."

Tom half laughed. "I went to Slughorn, yes."

Harry grinned.

Tom smirked. "But these aren't notes." Tom looked down at the paper. "So I suppose you owe me. That was a poor bet to make Harry."

Harry grinned. "I know."

Tom looked up, amused.

Harry paused for a minute. " I bet you looked for the spell."

Tom smiled in a dangerous way. Harry looked at him fiercely. "Your pretty good at getting what you want Tom, but I know you didn't find the spell."

Tom was no longer smiling, but watching Harry for something. Harry, brushed his nose with his hand. "The spell is not in that library."

Tom watched his every motion.

Harry smiled, this time sure of himself, and this made Tom regard him with a different air.

"You couldn't find the spell, so you had to do something else." Harry was looking Tom in the eye now. "I know it's not for an extra credit project as well as you know that the McBoogle didn't get lost." Harry's eyes had a somber tone. "If you were anyone else in this school I would never even suggest it.."

Harry looked down at the paper. "But you aren't just anyone." Harry looked back up. " I would confidently bet all the money I owned, that you wrote that spell yourself."

Harry looked back at the paper. "And I think it's right there."

There was a pregnant pause. "I'll bet another hex, its' within fine tweaks of working too."

For a moment, Tom was quite. Draco watched with avid attention. "I don't give you nearly enough credit," he asked. "Do I?"

There was a look of actual admiration on his face that didn't look normal on his ridged features. Tom grinned a little. "I better watch out for you." He gave Harry a rather discerning glance. "Lestrange, and the others, not much danger there." He smirked again. "But you Harry, your a bit sneakier aren't you?"

Harry didn't dare break eye contact, and Draco gave Potter some credit for it. "Maybe smarter." Harry commented.

Tom sneered. "I don't doubt that."

Harry smirked. "Smart enough not to try to mess with you, if that's what your wondering."

Tom grinned again. "No." he said. 'I'm wondering what you may have already done,"

The two boys sat facing each other. Draco felt like he was about to witness some sort of brilliant moment. Something that had went down in history books. Something Binn's had undoubtedly made dubiously boring. Something about Tom, made him nervous. What had happened before 1950? Draco bit his lip in concentration. "Grindywald had fallen, his father would soon be born, Voldemort came into some power shortly after. Then Voldemort must be young now, Draco though, gazing at the two boys in front of him. Tom smirked, and Draco suddenly felt a pure wave of terror.

It couldn't be? Could it? No, he would kill Potter… And then Draco realized. Tom wouldn't know yet! Suddenly sick, Draco looked from Harry to Tom. But Potter wouldn't be so stupid to get so close.

The Draco felt nauseous again. This was Harry, the king of Gryffindor bravery. Yes. Yes he would get this close. But Tom respected him, he though, suddenly fearful. Voldemort respected Harry. A darker Harry in Slytherin robes, with a crisp prefect badge pinned to the hem. Draco had never before thought of Harry as dangerous. As Draco felt a tug in his navel, he thought differently however, and taking one last look at the massacre of history before him, he was jerked back and everything faded.

He awoke, heaving near Dumbledore's desk, his blonde hair wet with a cold sweat. That had not been what Dumbledore had made it sound like. He closed his eyes again, before clutching his head. " You!"

He panted, and grimaced as he saw Dumbledore's eyes cloud. "Liar!"

Dumbledore backed away from his desk frowning.

* * *

And (AN number 2) 

So yeah, Draco is back, and the next chapter will be back in Harry's view point. Now, once I get really posting again, they might come quickly, and before I know it, the end will be upon us. Any questions or confusions before I start getting to the end would be answered. (Most of them anyway.)

Main points of this chapter, things to look for in the next-

Draco and Dumbledore- What will Draco tell Dumbles, who lied to him.

Tom and Harry- Tom is beginning to realize what a smart cookie Potter is.

Thank you to my reviewers. You are my buddies. Review and receive….nothing really, but please do it anyway. Thank you.


	24. It already Is In motion

Ohyeah100- I AM ALIVVVVVVVEEEEEE

Readers- Whatever….

(AN- Whoa. So it's been awhile. Ok, a really really long time. It is almost as though this chapter was meant to be late. I have had at least three computer malfunctions since the last update on this story, one of witch occurred in the Caribbean. My laziness is not completely to blame.

I just want to thank everyone who reviewed my last chapter. It really kept me going on this. Reviews really are love. They are both encouraging and enlightening. This chapter is most definitely dedicated to everyone who reviewed my last chapter. You are the best readers I could ask for.

So I am going to warn you now that due to the long space between updates, I foresee that this authors note will probably be massively long winded. So if you suspect that all authors note-like information be will boring, feel free to skip to the chapter, (I can't really blame you) but if you are feeling nicely patient

I give major author kudos to people who suffer through authors notes. For the best understanding, I would highly recommend going back and reading the last chapter. Once again, I apologize that this chapter took so long.

First up, Grodisiusius. My hasn't my little blonde Slytherin's name been hard to pronounce? I have received several reviews from curious readers unable to pronounce his name. I think there might have even been an email at one point. I suppose the time has come at last for to reveal my dark little secret, to air my dirty laundry if you will, because I honestly cannot tell you how to pronounce his name. Phonetically speaking, it makes no sense. I give you all rights to the pronunciation of his name. As one particularly perceptive reader put it, I think It's time for Grodsiusius to get a nickname.

This chapter is one of those chapters between action. There is a lot of conversation in this chapter and less actually action. It helps lead up to what needs to take place for the action to occur so I hope you enjoy it anyway. Many things that appear unimportant in this chapter will probably have later repercussions. So enjoy chapter twenty for the most belated chapter published on this story. Reviews help me know what I am doing right (or wrong). They make a big difference.

Any confusion or questions feel free to ask.

Chapter 24

It Already Is / In motion

Word count 7039

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Hermione's POV

Hermione sat at her desk in history of magic, eyes manically watering as they were so very prone to do these days.

Professor Binns voice was floating just above her head, scratchy and monotonous. Rarely was she too distressed to take notes but lately she found that as soon as she tried to concentrate her brain would deviate bizarrely back to Harry. Or rather, a dizzying caricature of Harry in pain as a prisoner of cruel war they were fighting.

Beside her, Ron seemed to have lost his mind. Not only was he attentive but he was taking notes with great care.

No doubt, so as not to think about what she was thinking about thinking she thought, pouting slightly.

It was a restless cycle of disturbing images. Images in which Harry was captured and beaten, forced into a dank cell with his wrists bound and his glasses broken. It made her sick, for surly if Harry were anything less then restrained violently he would have attempted to contact them.

Hermione looked up solemnly at the blackboard when a creaking sound filled her ears. The door opened and a very late Draco Malfoy entered, looking dazed.

He shuffled forward with his eyes on his seat, a strange look on his face.

It took a moment for him to balance himself enough to sit down. He teetered, and slumped as though he had just been thrown at a portkey from south China and back in about sixteen seconds.

Hermione nudged Ron.

Ron looked up, his pupils wide and his hand quivering. "What?" he snapped peevishly, "Can't you see I'm taking notes?"

Hermione tugged hard on his robe so that he was looking were she was looking.

Malfoy was staring into space. Pansy was talking animatedly to the side of his face which remained blank of any emotion, annoyance or otherwise.

Ron look at Hermione perplexed.

They continued to stare until Malfoy looked up, saw them and scowled bodily. He turned away and pulled a piece of parchment out from under Pansy's elbow . She slid forward looking a little hurt.

Ron eyes squinted but he returned to his notes. Hermione however was more hesitant to return to her solitude of suffering.

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Harry POV

Harry was busily taking notes. Potions was due to start any moment and Harry was hurriedly adding points to the bottom of his immaculate essay. He crammed small notes in black ink in the margins, reminded forcibly of Hermione as he scribbled in a thoroughly unnecessary footnote.

The bell rang and Harry rolled his scroll in a horrid fashion. He might have a chance to fix it when he got to the dungeons.

At a mid paced jog he rushed the staircases, disappearing momentarily behind tapestries.

The day was still early. He had skipped breakfast without a thought, mostly to make his essay more appropriate but it served other purposes too. For if he missed breakfast he was able to avoid Tom for an entirely extra 35 minutes.

It wasn't as though he didn't want to see Tom. No, not exactly. He just dreaded what he feared would be an entirely new order when he did.

Harry hadn't seen his Tom since the night before in the library. He might have been well phrased, but he feared Tom would not be pleased to see him and as he raced down the corridor, he had the terrible sense that he was running toward danger. This was a feeling that Harry no longer savored very much at all.

Still, a forced meeting in class could not be as potentially frightening as a placid meal.

He reached the potions corridor and came to a skidding halt just outside the doors. He pulled out his essay and rolled it again, his breathing catching in his chest slightly as he replaced his essay in his bag.

He entered the classroom with the slowest of his classmates, Bonnie Fugal from Ravenclaw who was trying to fix her lopsided skirt and Myrtle who was waiting to take a seat in the back row. Harry smiled at Myrtle as he moved past her.

He didn't wait for her to respond, but instead moved forward. A seat on Toms right was open. One that Harry suspected with a slight swoop of his nerves had been reserved for him. The seats on either side of the empty seat were open and Harry realized with forced calm that he was probably expected to sit there.

Harry took the seat knowing that plenty of the Slytherins, who usually clamored for seats next to Tom as he seemed to radiate scholastic excellence would dearly love to be in his place.

Instead the Slytherins had very pointedly left one seat by Tom open, almost as if by order. Malfoy turned to look at him when Harry drew level with them, his face sort of scrunched up. He gave Harry a very silent look as Harry sat down next to Tom feeling watched.

Tom smiled in a sort of dangerous way. Harry pulled out his book and his re rolled essay which Tom surveyed with something like disinterested mirth.

Without thinking, Harry shot him a look. Tom's smirk deepened but he turned away.

Surprised both by his own boldness and Tom's lack of indigence, Harry flipped open his book. He had expected Tom to be angry or at least distant. He appeared to be neither but then, Tom was only very rarely what he appeared to be.

Slughorn began the lesson reluctantly looking uncharacteristically tired. He heaved his way between the desks examining their potions. He made one remark in his entire stroll down the line of sizzling cauldrons when Tom's potion managed to achieve a drowning drought's "Truest color"

Harry was too distracted to work well. He received a shock when Tom reached for his paring knife as though he thought Tom was about to stab him. Harry mentally kicked himself as Tom recoiled with his knife to slice mandrake roots.

And on top of his overwhelming paranoia were the looks he was receiving from both Lestrange and Malfoy alike; as though they too were afraid Harry might attack them.

Harry had expected to be shunned or put down but ironically, it seemed more as if he had been promoted.

The Slytherins around him sat on their chairs at a more formal distance from Harry then he could remember them ever having done before.

While Harry brewed his potion he was aware of at least two sets of eyes following him at all times as though waiting for something.

When Harry realized he would have to go to the store cupboard for powdered dragon hamstring Grodisiusius had given his up willingly, something no respected Malfoy had ever done. Harry had been so surprised he had taken it without comment, rude or otherwise.

Similarly, at lunch Lestrange had leapt out of the seat Harry usually chose and opted instead for a seat on the end.

Harry took a bowl frowning. He spooned the soup around trying to cool it on the sides of his bowl, when Gavivi threw himself down in front of him.

"Potter!"

Harry blinked.

He hadn't been called Potter by a Slytherin in a long long time.

"Yeah."

"I was just outside charms." Gavivi sat down. "When I saw that nasty red mudblood you hate."

Harry blinked again. "Allen Weasley you mean?"

"Yeah, Allen Weasley," Gavivi grabbed a roll and pulled it apart violently. "he was talking about you quite loudly. "

Harry sneered.

Gavivi continued. "He seemed quite angry.

Harry raised his eyebrows.

Gavivi launched back into his story. 'he was laughing with that Scridgemore bloke." here Gavivi paused to laugh nastily. "But then he saw me and went really quiet you see, because he knows that _I _know you."

Harry smirked now. "And then I suppose he made some vaguely threatening comments and stomped away?"

Gavivi laughed. "He didn't say anything, just went really quiet."

Harry thought this was a little strange, but didn't voice hi thoughts aloud.

Gavivi turned to look at the Gryffindor table were Allen sat as tall as he was, amongst small group of Gryffindors, out of which Allen was the only one looking in Harry's direction.

Harry smirked. Allen turned crimson and looked away. His tall gangly friend Rufus mouthed something that Harry could not quite read.

At that moment Grodisiusius and Tom took the seats on either side of them.

Malfoy grabbed a bun and began to chew it moodily. Tom put his bag on the ground and was reaching for the stew when he caught sight of Harry who was turning back from Allen.

A small malevolent smile reached the corners of his mouth. Harry only just saw it before Tom looked away.

Gavivi laughed, hacking into his own plate of jam strudel. Holding up a finger he grabbed his napkin and still laughing, managed to wheeze, "Looks scared doesn't he?" he looked from Harry to tom as though he was expecting some kind of assent.

Harry shot Gavivi a very nasty look and Harry noticed he stopped laughing considerably faster then Harry had expected him to.

Tom turned to look at him wit his face fully angled toward Harry as though inquiring.

Malfoy too looked interested, a watery smirk sliding onto his pointy face. Pale glee radiating from his features.

"What did you do?"

Harry shrugged feeling suddenly under fire.

Malfoy was watching him piercingly, looking thoroughly disappointed.

Harry shrugged. "I've done plenty of horrible things Grodisiusius, I don't really have time to wonder which of them has him quaking."

Lestrange salted his food. "You have screwed with him a lot this year."

Malfoy laughed, seizing the salt from Lestrange's hands. "You must have really done something this time."

Harry glanced at him annoyed. "Or perhaps I only hit him with a poorly aimed snowball."

Malfoy went silent at once and Lestrange seized the opportunity to grab the salt back out of Malfoy's unwilling fingers.

Malfoy reserved a sour look for Lestrange as he added liberal amounts of salt to his already alkaline broth.

Harry looked back at the Gryffindor table feeling uncharacteristically concerned. He didn't like not knowing. In the corner of his eye Malfoy appeared to be balling up a piece of roll. Harry turned to look at Tom who raised an eyebrow.

A dull thwack just before the bell announced that the roll ball had made contact with Lestrange's head while Harry straightened his bag.

00000

A large porcupine greeted him in transfiguration, glaring up at him moodily from a brown cardboard box on his desk. Quite the same mood seemed to plague a fatigued professor Marvel from beneath the novel of directions that were gleaming down at them in Dumbledore's handwriting transcribed in chalk.

Professor Marvel looked up as they filed in, drumming her nails on Dumbledore's desk. Harry took his seat and with each irritable click of nail against wood, he began to suspect something was wrong.

Dumbledore never missed class. Ever.

Tom slid in next to him pulling Malfoy into their row behind a group of tall sulky looking Gryffindors.

Harry noticed he seemed to be on high alert as well.

When they had all been seated, Professor Marvel stood up and Harry felt her eyes quiver on him before she began to address the class. "Good afternoon class."

A few students in the front row mumbled an awkward hello.

She stood for a moment at the front of the class surveying them all but when she opened her mouth to speak it was not to explain Dumbledore's absence as Harry had hoped it might be. "If you all would flip to page three hundred and ten, we can begin today's lesson on …."

Harry listened as she assigned them all a box which they were supposed to transfiguring into a cage without disturbing the porcupine inside but he barely heard a word.

No, instead he was very much distracted with wanting to ask why professor Dumbledore was absent but he could not think of a way subtle enough to do so.

Perhaps if he asked for help, drew her to him he might think of a way.

Harry had just opened his mouth to ask for help, when Malfoy's porcupine exploded in feathers.

Malfoy threw himself back, perhaps remembering his past mistakes in transfiguration with a wild cry.

Several students around them jumped and professor Marvel waddled toward them looking concerned. "What is the matter with you Malfoy?" She called shrilly looking from the fluffy porcupine to Grodisiusius as though she were unsure how to transfigure it back to normal.

Malfoy's mouth fell open. " I don't know!" He was staring, horrified at the porcupine. " I was just prodding it and it did…that." His mouth wobbled lamely. He turned up his noise in disgust with the room.

Harry frowned and then understood. He looked quickly back at Tom, whose wand was held innocently in his left hand. He leaned forward and closed the top of the box before it could leap on professor Marvel. "These are going to be on out finals too." Tom said calmly. "You might want to ask Dumbledore for help."

Harry watched as Tom sat back in his seat, a cool sort of arrogance flowing easily that made professor Marvel flush when he looked at her.

Malfoy was still goggling but Harry was catching on. Tom had caused Malfoy's minors explosion to bring Professor Marvel to him and it had worked splendidly, for she was now at his feet. Harry cleared his throat and decided to offer his ten cents adding. "I'm really not sure what to do either professor. When is Dumbledore coming back."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tom smirk with unexpected contentment.

Professor Marvel leaned forward onto Harry's desk exasperated. "Soon I should think, he was only called into the headmasters office this morning."

Up close Harry could see the bags under her eyes. He thought of Slughorn that morning, dropping off over his cauldron. They must have called all the teachers the night before he thought. Perhaps they were having meetings?

Tom seemed to be thinking the same thing because he was cleaning the feathers off an oblivious Malfoy's desk. "Isn't that something they could be doing at night?" Tom asked, brushing the last of the feathers away.

Professor Marvel who seemed to be equally clueless gave him a mourning look. "They have Tom. They've been having them all week."

Harry and Tom exchanged a look of fleeting importance as professor Marvel leaned away to check on the rest of the class. Tom, who usually set the class's high grading curve had yet to touch his porcupine. The effect was a class below par.

Harry was contenting himself to wondering about how he might ask what the meeting was about without sounding nosey when a Gryffindor on the other side of the room poked herself with a quill and called out shrilly. Professor Marvel sighed before heaving herself away from them and making the trip across the classroom.

The moment she was out of earshot Harry turned toward Tom and Malfoy. "What do you suppose they would call a meeting about in the middle of the day." Harry asked.

Tom was still following Professor Marvel across the room with his eyes.

"Why do you suppose my porcupine blew up?" asked Malfoy nastily, smacking the box off the desk as he did so. It hit a Gryffindor in front of them hard earning Malfoy a very nasty look.

Harry smirked. "Incompetence?"

Malfoy said nothing, looking back down at his desk. "I hate this class." His lips curled into a foul sneer.

Tom meanwhile was looking at professor Marvel frowning.

"What?" Harry asked.

Tom was smiling coldly. "Doesn't it strike you as odd that she wasn't invited to the meeting?"

Harry had not considered this. Now that Tom had mentioned it though, it was odd. Why wasn't she at the meeting? Harry began to work on his box, prodding his wand at the edges and attempting a texture switching spell.

Tom leaned back in his seat. The expression on his face fixed, as though he had thought of something that Harry hadn't but his cold eyes did not betray him.

000000

Harry had excepted that he might never discover the meaning of the meeting, but over dinner that night Harry found himself treated . Over roast beef and potatos, Gavivi, for the second time that day dropped a piece of usefull gossip.

Harry had just forked a steaming baked potato when Gavivi, flushed and smirking sat down knocking the table with his elbows in his permanently clumsy stupor. "Guess what?"

Harry reached out to steady his rattling goblet of pumpkin juice. Why did Gavivi insist on talking to him at all? That was something that truly merited a guess. "What?" Harry asked.

Gavivi reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment that Harry eventually recognized as a dated daily prophet article. "They'er looking for a new caretaker!"

Harry choked a little on his buttered potato.

Lestrange, who had been ignoring Malfoy since lunch looked up. "They finally decided the old one isn't coming back then?"

Gavivi shrugged. "Looks like, I suppose."

Harry swallowed what felt like a pound of gravel. "Let me see." he said, washing down the potato with pumpkin juice. His pulse was pounding in his ears.

Gavivi handed over the piece of paper in a prompted rush.

Harry had to exercise great control over his limbs as he unfolded the piece of paper. He scanned the article.

Gavivi grabbed a potato with his bare hand and dropped it into his plate as if it were on fire. "Ow."

Harry could feel Lestrange's eyes behind his head, inspecting the paper.

Gavivi looked up, blowing on his fingers. "They listed the old man as missing.." He laughed cruelly. "Imagine!"

Lestrange snorted. "The paper is still trying to cover up the chamber business then, are they?"

Gavivi was ladling liberal amounts of gravy over his dish now. "Can you blame them?" He gave another derisive snort. "It just makes it easier for the heir though, I suspect."

Harry's thoughts were back on Professor Marvel. She and Agustius had been seeing each other in secret. Harry knew that. Perhaps that was why they had chosen not to invite her to the meeting as an act of courtesy. But who else would have had the foresight not to invite her to the meeting? Harry didn't think that their affair had been common knowledge.

Harry sipped his pumpkin juice. There was really only one other person that Harry trusted to know.

It would have to have been Dumbledore. No other teacher would have been able to excuse Professor Marvel from the meeting.

Gavivi was smiling now. "Perhaps the heir will be rid us of the new one as well."

There was a scattering of sneering laughter. Harry thought he saw Lestrange make a violent motion with his knife across his neck. The laughter doubled in both volume and cruel meaning.

Harry ignored them. He thought about class. About the bags under his teachers eyes. He had been the cause of them, however distantly and none of them seemed to realize it.

Harry thought about how lose he had been to professor Marvel in class. Close enough to touch her. She had talked to him even. He, Harry, who had murdered her boyfriend. Harry smirked nastily at the small ball of unrighteous happiness in his chest caused by the sheer perversity of his being able to sit in front of Professor Marvel solid and whole because Agustius had failed not Harry.

Harry was suddenly very cold in the warmth of the great hall. He was both elated and terrified in the most destructive way because even if he was trapped in a cycle of constant disruption, he still had power. Power over Professor Marvel, because she didn't know the truth. Power over Slughorn in the form of deception. Power over Dumbledore because he did know and could do very little about it. In the end Agustius had failed and Harry had won. What Harry didn't know, was why he had never been able to spot this before.

Harry's eyes shined warmly over his low lit dinner. He watched Lestrange patter about without much real thought.

In a sick way, Harry could see why Tom was the way that he was. Alone and power hungry. Of course, Harry was not Tom. He was living a lie. Acting a roll. Still though, for the first time Harry could close his eyes and really understand. He could feel what Tom felt when he outsmarted men more the three times his age. Why power meant more to him the people.

And no matter how wise he was, that was a power that alluded Dumbledore.

000000

Harry could not sleep that night.

He went to bed early his mind swimming with dark secrets. He undressed, got under the covers and found it had very little effect sedating him.

Visions of his dreams of white walls and attacks haunted his mind. He remained fully awake and alert until laying still was nothing short of a punishment, not to say that he didn't deserve to be punished.

He laid there hoping stubbornly that he might manage to talk his mind into rest of some kind. In the end though, he gave up and succumbed to the night. He got up and winced when his feet touched the cold dungeon floor. He pulled on his pants and rummaged around for a moment before locating his glasses. Had it not been so cold, he would have forsaken his robes entirely, but the deranged chill created a necessity of robes and a sweater.

It was piercingly dark in the common room but for a small fire in the fireplace and one candle that flickered sinisterly from three feet from the hearth. The shadows danced lazily over the table that held it.

Before it was a shadowed Tom and a shivering Malfoy.

"But Tom, why?" Harry heard Malfoy hiss.

Tom's face was bent low, as sinister as ever. The candle light quivered, producing the same effect that muggle flashlights did on camping trips. His hair was neat and dark brushed up out of his cold eyes, a creamy dark contrast from his skin

Tom brought a piece of paper he was clutching up to his eyes and began to reread it. Harry stood, unsure of what he best move would be. He could turn back but the dark hollow that lead to the dormitories was really nearly less inviting then Toms sinister smirk.

Harry made his way over to them quietly, thinking perhaps he had been stuck with the Slytherins for to long. Mere months ago, Harry would have taken a dragon over a particularly dark look from Tom. Now he chose it willingly over sleep.

Harry moved quietly, allowing the sounds of their voices to call him through the dark around the chairs, couches and tables.

When Harry sat down between them, Malfoy jumped and Tom smirked as though he had known he had been watching them.

The silence was not awkward, but rather comfortable. Harry swept a hand through his hair and there in the dark with two shrouded men Harry felt the levels of restlessness that had kept sleep at bay relax slightly.

Because in the stiff silence between a killer and his henchmen, all traces of morality were free leave him.

He no longer thought of the fallen caretaker at all or of shredded ministry members. Because the boy next to him would have done the same, and this was oddly comforting to Harry. It was nice to know, that he was not alone.

Tom continued to smirk as he folded the paper. Malfoy however sank into the couch, looking a bit solemn. Harry watched as his eyes flicked to the paper in Toms hands. His white blonde hair which was easily shoulder length cast off a dim and sickly light. His face was pulled tight against his cheekbones. The effect was that Malfoy looked as though he wanted to kick someone very badly. Malfoy's eyes flicked from Harry to Tom.

Harry had a sour hunch that the person Malfoy wanted to kick the most was Harry, though he couldn't even fathom what he had done to prompt such new and undiluted hatred toward him.

"I thought you were in bed." Malfoy muttered.

Harry shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

Malfoy grimaced more fully. "Oh." He ran a pale hand trough his well groomed hair.

Harry yawned deeply noting Malfoy's annoyed glances as he did.

If Harry had been looking for social instructions through Malfoy's behavior, he would have went back to bed but Tom didn't seem to mind his presence and that was what counted. Harry reclined slightly.

He closed his eyes and opened them again. Tom had put the folded piece of paper in his robes pocket. Harry shivered a little and moved toward the candle sighing.

Tom had settled back into his seat. With every movement he made, Malfoy winced. Harry however, remained still as stone.

Tom looked at Harry. "I suppose you would believe me if I told you why Allen Weasley seems to have a vendetta against you."

Harry blinked, surprised. "I probably would. "

Malfoy too looked up in interest.

Tom was smiling ruthlessly now. "He thinks you've been after what counts most for people like Weasley."

Harry frowned.

Tom smiled again, but this time it was so cold could have frozen his blood in his eyes. "His girlfriend." Tom let the words slip from his tongue snakes and Harry could suddenly see why Tom looked so angry. If Harry had indeed made a move on Allen's girlfriend, Tom too would think Harry's actions juvenile and needlessly risky.

Harry frowned. "That's idiotic."

Toms face though perfectly constructed seemed to agree.

Malfoy, despite his quiet reverie leaned forward, his mouth open, looking aghast. "Weasel has a girlfriend?"

Tom's eyes swiveled to Malfoy suddenly dark and glacial. "Yes."

Malfoy closed his mouth. "Who is it then?" he asked, disbelief written all over his face.

Harry knew enough about Tom by now not to show visible disbelief, though he too was surprised.

Harry opened his mouth to ask who it was when it hit him horribly like a bludger to the intestines. It all made some horrible kind of sense. "It's not Myrtle, is it?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

Tom looked back at Harry smirking. Then he looked at Malfoy displeasure radiating like a hot oven. "Well look at this." he spoke in a low voice but there was no doubt that Malfoy would hear him. " Harry seems fit to believe me Malfoy." Tom said slowly, putting a slow mean emphasis on the word _Malfoy._

Tom had used Harry's first name and Grodisiusius's surname. What would have been normal in most circles was here a biting insult directed at Malfoy whose face had flushed slightly.

"I believed you." he murmured, sitting back against the couch.

Harry however was busy thinking about Myrtle. In a dizzying flash, things came back to him. The fight he had had with Rudulphus and Allen in the corridor. The day Malfoy had mocked Myrtle and Allen had lost his wits. It all made sense. How had Harry missed it?

Harry laughed disbelievingly. "That's foul."

Just as Tom was about to speak, Malfoy, who seemed determined to defend himself said defiantly. "I thought she was in love with you Tom."

Tom looked back at Malfoy, clearly tired of being interrupted. "Clearly that means I should never put much stock in what you think, doesn't it?" he said slowly, taking in the look of fear on Malfoy's face. There was a moment of silence and Harry was remained of Neville under Snapes glare as Malfoy shrunk back against the couch again. But here the scales were higher. Tom was more dangerous then Snape and Malfoy was built more hardily then Longbottom.

Harry was beginning to get the impression that Tom had been mad at Malfoy before he began interrupting him and that perhaps Harry was missing part of the story.

Tom was watching Malfoy now as he squirmed clearly waiting for an answer. Malfoy seemed for a second thoroughly torn between his pride and his loyalty and fear of Tom.

Harry might have felt bad for him if it hadn't been for the looks Grodisiusius had not been afraid to give him earlier. "Yes, I suppose it does." he said petulantly. Grodisiusius stood up. "I'm going to bed." he announced. "Night Tom." he muttered behind him as he left sulkily.

Harry smirked as Malfoy made his way across the room, throwing Harry a very dirty look as he climbed the boy's staircase silently.

Harry looked back at Tom. "What was that about."

Tom made no facial movements at all. "Exactly what you saw."

Harry, whose sense of what was too bold a question had been deadened by his new favoritism wondered aloud as the candle flickered. "Does it bother you when he calls you Tom?"

Tom looked at him, as though very surprised.

Harry expected Tom to insult him too and was very much so surprised when any traces of a sneer slid like liquid from his face. In the dim light, it was hardly encouraging but it was better then his anger. "What would you have him call me then?" Tom asked, his sharp eyes very focused.

Harry shrugged. His heart was beating very fast. Eye contact with Tom was like fluid fear.

Harry inhaled and felt oddly composed in his skin. "I don't know. I suppose Riddle doesn't suite you any better." Harry paused. "I suppose I just find your name Ironic."

Toms eyes remained concentrated on his face. "You told me you hate your father, that he wasn't even pureblooded." Harry paused, savoring the look of pure attention he had. "I suppose if I were you I wouldn't want to use his name."

Harry felt a rush of gratitude of his knowledge of Voldemort from the future.

Tom didn't speak nor did he move. There was moment were he continued to look at Harry and he was left to wonder, not for the first time if he had gone to far.

"A half blood with only a years knowledge of me, you are very disconcerting sometimes Potter." Tom was looking at the candle now. He could have been much older then he was in the light it cast.

Harry shrugged eager to change the topic. "I suppose you don't have much of a choice though do you, it's not as if you could have him call you master."

There was a flicker in Tom's eyes. Harry had captured a rare true interest from Tom. "No, I suppose he wouldn't like that much." His voice was soft but Harry knew it wasn't so out of compassion or sadness.

Harry smirked. "He _would _do it though."

Tom looked back at him his eyes as old as the stone in the walls. " He would do anything I asked him to if he was scared enough."

A chill ran down Harry's spine. Harry had never heard Tom talk express what they all knew, that he was the master and they were the servants. He had hit home.

"They all would." there was a strong silence in which Tom looked back at Harry, his eyes very careful. "Except for you I think."

Harry felt a small jolt in his stomach.

Tom was no longer smirking. He was watching Harry in a way that was more frightening than any smile or smirk. Tom cocked his head to one side. "Unless I am mistaken, I don't think you could be convinced to al anyone master."

There was no good answer to this question and Tom know it. In fact, Harry wondered if Tom wasn't enjoying Harry's discomfort. Because beneath the trivial exterior of the question was another. Tom wanted to know if Harry was willing to stay a servant. Like Malfoy, like the others. He wanted to know that Harry wouldn't challenge him. Knowing this, Harry was able to look back at him confidently.

"I suppose I might," Harry smirked. "But only if you were invincible or something."

Tom had Harry's eyes completely. Harry forced himself to think of nothing. Tom sat back satisfied. Harry smirked. "I suppose master is fussy anyway." Harry muttered.

They sat in silence, Harry, knowing more of Toms thoughts than anyone else in the school purely on a technicality. If Harry had not been from the future, he would be just as clueless as Malfoy.

But he wasn't clueless. Tom knew it and Malfoy knew it.

Tom smiled in reply. "I think Voldemort will do."

Harry took a small breath.

"They can call me Voldemort instead."

Harry grinned. "I suppose I have to use the same nickname Malfoy does?"

"They can call me Voldemort." he spoke then he looked back at Harry, his eyes as dark as the leather couch they were sitting on. His gaze was not soft but it carried more respect then when his eyes were on Lestrange and Malfoy. "I suppose _you_ can call me Tom."

Harry was so surprised that he almost laughed. He didn't only because his entire face was numb. "This should be a club."

Tom's eyes were like blue fire. "It already is."

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Dumbledore 1996

Dumbledore was being crushed by a thousand tons of moral weight. His heart was as heavy as a golf ball in the ruff sinking slowly deeper as he realized that for all his trouble, the youngest Malfoy would yield nothing.

He had asked all of his questions, and yet Mr. Malfoy would expel nothing more then simple mono syllabic grunts.

He had insisted that there had been a mistake. He had not seen Harry Potter, but Dumbledore was seasoned. He had been around for a long time.

If he could not spot a post pubescent lie then he had truly lost his touch.

Dumbledore liked to think that he didn't miss much, but the truth was more and more had been slipping by him for weeks. It frustrated Dumbledore to no end. His utter lack of success in the entire affair had left him tired, feeling older then he had ever felt before.

His very soul ached with failure. He could taste it in his old and frown lined mouth. He had lost Harry Potter.

He could hardly even believe it.

Dumbledore drew out the map for what felt like the millionth time. How he hated that map! He placed it squarely on his desk. He had never been so determined in his entire life. He had exercised every part of his brain and he still didn't see what he could do.

Mr. Malfoy had come out babbling. A lie! A hoax! He had been quite disturbed indeed. Dumbledore was merely waiting a post owl from Lucius Malfoy. Young Draco had flung himself for the door and been most angry when told he could not leave. The child had calmed himself and then his story had changed most magnificently.

He claimed to have been held hostage in a white room where nothing moved and time was inconsistent. He had carried on, claiming that Dumbledore had tried to punish him.

When Dumbledore the boy that he had not in fact, planned anything of the sort the blonde seemed to become quiet and asked to leave.

Dumbledore had let him. He had watching him going knowing that he had been lied to. Their was something more in the boys eyes and he knew it. It was pity that had allowed Dumbledore to watch him walk from his office without any attempts at forcing the truth from him.

He could not, as he usually did, sit back and wait for the answer to come to him. Time was slowly trickling away from him. A steady clicking from his cookoo clock ground time down into minutes, and Dumbledore felt his first wave of panic as he consulted the map one more time.

What hadn't he done? He had compromised his professionalism, interrogated students, spent sleepless nught in his office with that confounded cookoo clock.

He was in for a long night.

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Draco 1996

If Dumbledore was mad at him as Draco he suspected he was, it was nothing compared to what was happening inside his head.

Draco had not yet made up his mind. Had he been deceived? Had Dumbledore sewn together a glamour and fed it to Draco? Or had Draco been the first to discover a most unsettling truth?

Had Harry Potter somehow become a death eater? It was ludicrous. Moronic really.

Draco found his way to class out of sheer habit. Intellect had nothing to do with his feet as they lead him to the history of magic classroom.

Draco took his seat drawing a considerable horde of looks. Even as Draco sat down more visions of his grandfather flashed before his eyes. Draco had rarely thought demeaning thoughts of his own family but it was hard not to when the vision of Harry Potter was more menacing that anyone in his family.

He could see now why his father had never been keen to discuss him, if what he had seen did indeed transpire to be a reality of some kind.

His father? That was it! He could write to his father and ask him questions. If something didn't match up then he would know it had all be a horrible dream a perverse lie.

Draco wrenched his seat sideways surprised to find Pansy looking rather surprised, her mouth wide open. Draco wondered how long she had been talking to him. Over Pansy's shoulder his eyes found the eyes of Weasley and Granger wide upon him. Malfoy sneered and pulled his parchment out from under Pansy's elbow. Next to him she wilted, offended.

He needed to write off this note while it was all fresh in his head. He needed to ask questions without rising suspicion. He needed to find a fault in this dream this _travesty_. He needed Weasley and Granger to stop staring at him. He needed a plan. A clever plan.

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The leg of an owl , 1996

From The Pen Of Draco L. Malfoy.

Dear Father,

School has been dull. Several of the Gryffindor pets have been unbearable. I do my best to make life miserable for them and what do I get? Nothing, that's what. You might think that just bearing the name Malfoy would give them cause to sink to their knees in awe but several of them posses some sort of preconceived idea that I might not be better of them. It's quite funny really, to see them try to one up me father but even I admit, some of their insults lately have been strangely directed. Comebacks like, 'Your grandfather wore a _muffler_ INDOORS', just seems odd don't you think? Or what about 'Your Grandfather was a sniveling coward, who liked to quiver and beg for assistance with easy sixth year homework and buy cloaks for slimly half blood imposters?' Does that sound right to you? What do YOU make of this father? If someone told you that your Grandfather was a PASTY weakling with really poor aim concerning snowballs, what would you say? Would you say it was ridiculous? Or would you silence them? Is this true father? Surely I have been deluded. I never became properly acquainted with grandfather as he died when I was so young…and so suddenly. Your advice would be greatly appreciated father as always.

Your son,

Draco

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AN- Ahhhhh yes, he is very clever. I am going to be beinging the next chapter soon. My hope is that it will be up within a week or so. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.


	25. Of the future and the present

I have dying to update this for months. Honestly. I have had this whole chapter planned out and sections done for a while. There is more to this chapter, but I feel like you readers deserve something new to read while I get the rest of it. Maybe we can consider this a half chapter. I'll try to update soon and we can call it pax?

This chapter appears to be rather benign, but I leave pretty much a mammoth clue at the end. Something like an anvil to think about. . (: Hopefully it will make up for the months of notdates which are basically updates...but not.

It is my suggestion that you reread the last chapter to fully understand this one. This is only necessary because it has been so long since I updated, so either way, it pretty much comes down to me being so lazy.

I would beg and grovel for forgivness, but as you wouldn't be able to see it and I can't think of a smilie that would get that point across I shall happiliy refrain. Thank you to all readers who have stuck with the story. If you could see me I assure you, I would grovel.

Presenting chapter 25 and ½

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Draco's POV 1996 

The first way to assist him was to fix him with a penetrating stare. A stare that had frightened many men into decisiveness shone stunningly across the wooden desk but the boy sitting opposite him failed to notice it, choosing to watch his bird perch silently on it's golden frame, all coos and gleaming plumage rather than acknowledge the man before him.

"And you are quite sure that you saw nothing."

A petulant look.

"No sir." Malfoy lifted his head. Eyes squinted as if against invasion.

"Nothing."

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Two thoughts; each as nasty as the other played out their chilling theories in his head. A world where Harry Potter was everything he privately longed to be, or a world where Harry Potter had slipped into thin air underneath Albus Dumbledore's nose. Neither was pleasant as far as evening musings went and the precariousness of the situation Dumbledore had (Unwittingly?) placed him in caused a kind of anger to bubble up inside his chest. The kind that blossomed and swelled if it was not expelled. A hatred so strong it threatened to break solidly constructed objects– first years for instance.

Draco sat back on the leather couch before the fire and ran a hand through his hair doggedly as he eyed the eleven year old boy before him, the only other Slytherin still awake in the common room coldly. His little hands fidgeted nervously (loudly) and his eyes rapidly shifted in the corners as he became aware of Draco's attention. The fidgeting ceased and he soon gathered up his essays and went to bed.

Draco watched him go, his sharp eyes following the boy out of site toward his dorm. With a last thunk and clunk of a door Draco allowed himself to stretch. It was a very uncomfortable feeling- to feel obliged to fret over his enemy.

It was very uncomfortable, sitting there and fretting. His father had not yet responded and Draco was growing tired of the apprehension. For if it was true, Harry Potters very life might lay in his hands. Smirking nastily, Draco sunk back. Patience had never been his virtue. His father has always reminded him of this when he was younger and even now he found it very trying to sit still and do nothing. Especially when the stakes were so precariously high.

He closed his eyes and tried to recall all that he had seen. Tom Riddle, and boy called Lestrange– but surely that could be verified! And what else? Harry, a prefect (Draco grimaced), his grandfather who was as blonde as he was. These were all verifiable facts and surely the library kept some sort of record. That might do. Draco's eyes flickered toward the mantel where a large and oak framed clock sat ticking away the hours before morning when classes would recommence. His time was limited for research. 1:00 PM. The face read, he blinked rapidly and the weight on the couch shifted as he slid limberly to his feet.

Harry's POV 1945

"The Advertisement has finally hit paper." The clink of a spoon sinking to the bottom of a bowl coupled with the scraping of a bench followed this statement. Harry, who had been eating his bagel in a kind of earnest silence leaned over to peer at Lestrange.

"Advertisement?"A burly growl from Goyle. "What for?"

"For a new Santa yougreat hairy lug."

It was breakfast time. Lestrange was tepid as always engulfed in his paper, Harry chewing silently as Malfoy hunched over a bowl of something his eyes sagged with sleeplessness.

"But I thought Santa was a muggle. "Avery Crabbe's only friend whispered.

Harry looked up just in time to see the ends of Lestrange's paper droop half heartedly. "The advertisement for the new caretaker you moron."

Malfoy shook his head and drew his robes closer. "So they've done it then. Finally admitted that he isn't coming back. That Slytherin put an end to him?" He took a moment, his face seeming somehow much more alert with it's flush of smarmy righteousness, "Reckon they will start interviewing today?"

"Who knows." Gavivi yawned, shaking sugar on his porridge. "I think they will try to be as quick as they can."

"Why?" Asked Avery who had assimilated to a three-way conversation.

"Less attention focused on it that way." Lestrange muttered lowly as a group of Gryffindors passed close by their table. "The last caretaker didn't exactly retire did he?"

Harry did his best to make sure his facial expression never wavered. He wasn't sure what expression he was fighting to hide, but it seemed important to stifle it.

"Not at all." Malfoy was smiling nastily. "Filthy mudblood had it coming though. I wasn't surprised when the heir chose to attack him first. Pathetic menace of a man."

Harry turned his eyes on Malfoy, who he had been quite intentionally avoiding since the night before. He wondered idly why none of them had ever questioned Tom about it. Of course they all seemed to know that he was the heir of slytherin, but none of them seemed to know that it was not Tom who had attacked the caretaker. Malfoy caught his eye and Harry fought to hold his impassive profile even as he realized that the expression threatening to hold his face was a smirk.

"Done a nice job keeping it out of the papers though eh?" Lestrange had folded back up his portion of the newspaper and was finishing off his juice.

"Hushed up all of it," said Malfoy, his eyes still on Harry " Father says it's been unbelievable trying to get news."

"At least it means they have achieved something with all these meetings." Harry said, causing both Lestrange and Gavivi to look over at him, as though they had forgotten he was there in his silence.

Lestrange nodded vigorously, too readily agreeing Harry thought, and he was surprised to see Gavivi ascent as well.

"Always good to hear that Dippit has been doing something at least."Lestrange drawled watching Harry carefully as Malfoy opened his mouth. Lestrange gave Malfoy a pointed look as though reminding him of something and Harry watched in interest as Malfoy looked away, out across the grounds.

Harry watched this interaction with a sharp . Malfoy and Lestrange who rarely agreed on anything seemed to have made an agreement. Malfoys eyes ran off of Harry with the bitterness from the night before when Tom had snubbed him and Harry privately wondered if Lestrange and Malfoy hasn't discussed it together. Alone. In the dormitory without him. How very Slytherin.

But even as he thought it out, it seemed unlikely given Malfoys arrogance and Lestrange generally condescending thoughts. That he had confided his embarrassment in Lestrange was almost unheard of but there was something new in the looks they exchanged before that look was over.

"They haven't run anything on the attacks?" Harry asked wonderingly.

Lestrange shook his head slowly. "No, I don't think so. Nothing directly related at least."

"Bad publicity." Gavivi mumbled, reaching for the basket of apples in the middle of the table. Some where overhead the bell rang and the apple disappeared into his cloak.

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The Potions corridor was packed when the reached it. The doors behind them sealed shut. Harry cast an eye over the crowd for Tom who had been missing at breakfast.

"Damn." Gavivi sneered. "What's all this?"

Harry shrugged and tried to look over the heads of the moving crowd. All of whom were his age and a fair few of them just a head taller. He could just make out something on the door to the classroom.

"There something on the door." Harry said, keeping his voice low. "Gavivi, go check it out."

Harry hung back with Malfoy and Lestrange while Gavivi, slighter and shorter, slunk through the crowd. He was back moments later, his bag low on his shoulder. "Class is cancelled. Come on, lets go to the Library."

The four of them fought back into the stairway and into the great hall. Lestrange clinging to his books and sneering. "Why would class be cancelled. Wouldn't they just hire a substitute."

Gavivi shook his head and leaned in as the reached the hall. "Nah, another meeting. All the teachers are there."

Malfoy laughed. "So they have started interviewing." He was about to say something when a nasty leer slipped onto his face.

Harry's eyes searched the hall. They stopped on a women, chatting animatedly to a stopping Professor Bins. She was wearing a bright lime colored jacket and pencil skirt, with a pair of lurid pumps that matched her blonde hair. Her lips were very red and her grip on her quill seemed very tight. Harry was struck by that kind of strange nostalgia he had learned to forget. In between her choppy blonde bob and skirt there was a trace or something so undefinably Rita Skeeter that Harry stopped to look. Behind her was another man. A short, dirty man with a kind of forced purpose in his navy suit. In the door leading off the great hall Harry noticed the train of Dumbledores robes.

"Reporters?"

Harry heard the crunch of an apple and the audible sneer of Lestrange.

"It's just a caretaker. Please."

Harry watched as the women eyed them excitedly. Eyes trailing along his prefect badge.

"She looks like she is coming over here."

"Shut up." said Harry menacingly and silence fell but for Gavivi chewing, albeit nervously. "Lets head for the library. She won't follow."

Harry lead the way across the hall. The reporter followed them as far as the doorway where Harry could hear voices. Just beyond the door was Professors Dippit, Slughorn, Dumbledore and Tweedy. Attentive as always, Tom stood next to Slughorn, his handsome face sleek and interested.

As soon as Harry crossed the threshold the reporter was upon them and catching sight of Dippit seemed delighted. Tom looked form Harry to the reporter.

She puffed herself up. "Professor Dippit, how wonderful! I was told you be in a meeting all morning." She had a high sweet voice. A false hook on the end betrayed her unhappiness.

Professor Dippit looked back at her, clearly troubled. "Melinda, yes yes, We've been rather tied up. His eyes moved from Harry to Malfoy. "Been amusing yourself with the students I see."

She looked back at Harry, and Harry raised his eyebrows.

Some of our finest actually." Dippit continued. "That boy there." he gestured to Harry, "Is Harry Potter. Very talented. He's just been made prefect actually." He looked over at Tom. "Oh, and this Is Tom Riddle. Head of his class. We have high hopes for him." He beamed with a sort of pride.

Melinda seemed aggressively untouched. "I presume you are. Now Professor, if you have a minute I really would love to clear this up with the Press." She blinked innocently. "Plenty of confusion at _the prophet_ about all this."

Professor Dippit seemed quite unsettled "Yes, Yes, I'll set you up with the Barmous, he should be."

"Oh no." Melinda batted at the air about her." Goodness, I have already been with the new caretaker, I was rather hoping that you would deign to give me just a itty bitty" she pressed her fingers together, "fragment of your time."

"Yes, Yes." He sounded wounded. 'This way, I'm sure I will be able to clear up any misunderstandings."

She giggled and followed him down the hallway. Behind Harry, the man in the blue suit who had been talking to melinda earlier had appeared looking confused. Professor Tweedy was rubbing his temples.

Professor Slughorn scooted forward. "This way Barmous, that's right." he pulled him into the circle and Harry watched him go. "We will soon have you settled out."

"Perhaps you might give him the tour Professor." Tom's suggestion did not go unheard.

"Aha yes!, of course of course, you'll be needing that if you want to make your first patrol tonight Barmous."

He seemed reluctant to leave however and Harry, Malfoy and the rest of Tom acquaintances were blocking his path quite well.

"If it's alright with you Horace, I think I shall see to Dippit, for now it would be best if these boys found the library."

Dumbledore had dismissed them. Harry went to leave but Slughorn made a startled motion. "Oh yes of course, but a moment with Mr. Potter and young Tom." He was bouncing on the balls of his feet and Harry made his way over to him slightly surprised.

"Boys, tonight is Mr. Barmous's first patrol. As the Slytherin prefects I think it would do nicely if you were to accompany him in this endeavor."

Tom nodded, his dark hair moving a fraction. "Of course professor, and I'm sure Harry won't mind."

Harry nodded his agreement catching Toms eye for just a fraction of a second. "We could stay with him, make sure he doesn't get lost."

"Brilliant!" Slughorn beamed, thumping Tom on the shoulder. Behind him Harry could feel Dumbledore eyes on them and strangely, he found he didn't care.' very good, Very good. I shall meet you in the entrance hall with Barmous around eight."

Harry nodded. Slughorn smiled, slapped his hand down harder and left them. "Have you been with them all morning?" Harry asked as Slughorn made his way toward Dumbledore.

"No." Tom was frowning. "I was only attempting to have a word with Slughorn."

Harry had hitched up his bag further as the made for the library. "But he was to busy hiring the new caretaker." Tom nodded, his face more contrived then natural. Harry continued. "You've met the new caretaker?"

Tom looked at him know. "Yes, much like the last I would imagine." Harry could help but feel the intensity of the gaze and was struck once again, with the fear of Tom knowing his own part in that murder. He couldn't have that, Harry suddenly realized and he was seized with a sudden determination.

"I only ask when I think about the suspicious death of Agustius the late."

Tom had stopped to fix his bag, but his eyes were smoother then ice. "Indeed," he paused for a moment as if to let Harry's fear solidify. "and what exactly are your suspicions?"

Harry shrugged, trying his best to reflect Toms cool face back at him in the mirror of his eyes. "What does it matter what my suspicions are, when you have undoubtedly solved the whole mystery ages ago."

Tom smirked, letting his head move to the side to maintain eye contact when Harry adjusted his own strap. "I confess I find it all rather puzzling Potter."

_No he didn't_. "Do you?"

"Indeed. I have my suspicions as I am sure every student in this school does, but I find some rather unsavory inconsistences in mine." He was smirking. It was cold and cruel. But it wasinvolved. It mattered on some level. He knew. He had to, he just didn't understand why.

"Unsavory?" Harry met his eyes. Tom knew. Tom knew. Tom knew he had killed the caretaker. In the days before death eaters, Harry realized, Tom might see him as something spectacular. Sixteen years in an orphanage. Eleven years in a cupboard. Tom would kill his family. Harry would kill the staff.

Tom's eyes were something like liquid, they took in twice of what Harry knew he was saying. They knew nervousness. They knew fear. They knew disgust. He could read harry like an open book and Harry could see why no one lied to Voldemort and lived. "The entire school knows it to be a crime of the heir of Slytherin."

"Ready excuse isn't it?" Tom asked.

Harry smiled and the relaxation of his muscles felt good. Tom did not appear to be ready to curse him. "If not the heir of Slytherin then who?"

Harry waited on a breath. Then Tom grinned. "And how." He let his eyes fall to Harry's badge for a moment as it was gleaming in the light then he continued down the hall, so Harry followed him. "Even the how has never been answered. Dumbledore himself never found his body."

Harry shrugged and meeting Tom's eyes he added. "Nor the heir for that matter."

They were nearing the library.

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Draco's POV

The library was deserted when he reached it and a silent as a crypt. A great sense of foreboding leaped into his chest when he reached the research section. An eerie kind of moonlight glowed upon the floor and first shelf and Draco, feeling safer using natural light dropped to his knees. He blew the dust off the top of a collection of _prophet_ articles dated Feb- March of 1956. A brief wisp of panic sprung up in his chest when he considered that the articles might not go as far back as 1945. He was quickly calmed when he dusted a cover of a popular magazine from 1934.

With a determination that surpassed his dislike of the dust and grime, he pulled books off the shelf, taking very little care for their spines. When a particularly large volume parted ways with it's crusty cover Draco smirked as he imagined Madame Pince's reaction when she finally got around to noticing. He picked up the limp book, and smiling nastily, put it back on the shelf so that a flap hung sadly over the edge.

Chuckling coldly he continued his search, pulling out bundles of papers from 1945 and the adjoining years. Pausing to pull a section of twine off a fat stack, he began to pick apart the yellowing pages. He scanned the first page, and finding nothing more particularly potent then a sunken goblin urn of some kind, he tossed it aside. Various headlines caught his attention. He

placed those he found the most interesting to the side. The others he bent, crumbled and in other ways marred in unnecessary ways in his impatience.

When the sun began to creep through the cracks between the tree's of the forest in the distance, Draco had a tidy pile of pages with titles like _Mayhem at Hogwarts; The Ministry Investigates _

and _Rumors at school Unfounded: Disregard. _Beneath the nearest table, was a rubbish heap of other stories, unwanted and battered. Draco settled back against the wall and opened another page. _Ministry officials recalled; Head of research last seen in forest; So was wolf._ Draco raised and eyebrows, and smirking scanned the article.

The first page was a list of grievances. Ministry officials frightened, then put out, and one women who claimed to have been sabotaged. Draco was throughly nabbed when he saw it.

_Among the recent claims of our government officials sings another voice. A cluster of voices to be more exact, louder and more pronounced than those of such bitter authority, the voices of the student body . Says Grodsiusius Malfoy, aged 16, "I've never felt safer, the rumors about our school are so ridiculous." When asked if these students feel as though a source of omnipotent danger has indeed found purchase within their school this year, Emeret Lestrange quips, "Yes, I'm so frightened I can barely stand to make curfew." Interjects his friend Harry Pooter, another handsome 16, " He really can't." _

Draco paused, his nose wrinkled. Annoyance and disgust playing for first. Harry Pooter? It had to have been a miss print. Scowling he reached for another paper. _Disappearance of caretaker sparks rumors of illicit contract. _Draco flipped the page over and tossed it into the heap of unread articles. He looked at the next paper. _Second Prefect_ N_amed; A new Hogwarts tradition_? Draco pushed it aside without reading it, opting instead for the paper just underneath it. _Hogwarts inquires after new caretaker; old one never coming back. _Beneath it, there was a picture of the school and below that honors students, the head girl and boy, prefects...

Draco froze. His limbs help the paper before him, but his mind had left him. Then without warning, he dove after the forgotten papers, coming up with the paper he had thrown away so carelessly. _Second Prefect __named; A new Hogwarts tradition_? Fingers shaking with anticipation and dread, he brought the paper into the light.

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The second half of this should be out soon, until then, reviews are my love.

Before I forget, anyone with Beta powers? I might be needing one pretty soon.

Questions and comments welcome so long as they are not on fire. (:


	26. We're plotting behind your back

New chapter?

Hard to believe isn't it? I can hardly believe it took me so long to update this story. I'm actually mildly disgusted with myself.

Rereading recent chapters might help readers to follow this chapter as it has been so long since my last post. Heavy on inner circle drama and light on exposition and plot movement, this is more of a building chapter. Any questions or comments? Drop me a line, I'm usually quite pleasant.

An extra shout out to kinda evil, without whom the first few chapters of the sequel would never have been so creatively plotted.

Thanks to everyone who waited for an update; feel free to demand things of me. Seriously, anybody writing new stories? I feel that I owe fan fiction some reviews as repentance.

Or you know..if you really only feel like expressing your ire at my lazyness through angry ALL CAPS reviews I will be more than understanding of that too.

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Harry's POV 1949

The corridors were dark and Harry was moving with a prominent haste, the torches quivering he passed with such pressing authority. It was a quarter to eight and he was expected to show the caretaker his rounds, a duty he had almost completely forgotten.

The path to the entrance hall was a relatively short one, but the cold deserted corridors seemed unending and serpentine. The sky outside held a late winter's inky color, the kind that was a neither uncaring nor affectionate. It was, Harry decided more assuredly as he turned a corner, completely uninterested. Ambivalent, it viewed atrocities with the same stormy eye that kept a watch for heroism.

Thoughts like these had never used to occur to Harry, but then times were dark. Undoubtedly darker than any time he had lived through, and yet he was quite sure that he hadn't been so safe in years. Why had he been sorted into Slytherin? Had he been placed in any other house he might have considered living his life out in this backward time. A second chance at what could be considered a free life. Harry slipped the book he had been reading into his robes; and withdrew his wand as he neared the entrance hall. It wasn't that he feared any sort of attack, but he had learned long ago it did well to be prepared in the Hogwarts corridors after dinner.

The entrance hall was deserted, but warmer. Harry positioned himself near one of the floor based torches and warmed his hands, aware that across the chamber a Ravenclaw was in the same position, sniffling hard at what was either a nasty cold or thick tears. Harry ignored him and leaning against the wall of the chamber drew his book back out once more. He ran a hand through his hair as he took in the passage. The Ravenclaw shifted his weight and sniffed hard; a sound that went directly to Harry's nerves. The minutes ticked away and Harry found himself rereading sentences, unfocused and bothered. His unruly anxiousness was periodically broken by the boys heaving and sucking.

What could be keeping Tom? Or Slughorn for that matter? It occurred to him it was much less like Tom to be absent, but he supposed it could be reasoned away. He paused to think and noticed that the presence in the chamber had changed. Suddenly tense he froze. The boy sniffling had stopped. He looked up expecting to find that he had composed himself but instead startled.

Tom was standing some five feet from him smiling pleasantly, if not icily. Harry looked around him searching for the boy.

Tom smirked. "Looking for someone?"

Harry fought the obviously obnoxious urge to smirk at the callous creepiness. "You actually."

Tom cocked an eyebrow, his eyes falling to the book in his hands. Silently he reached forward and using his fingers to mark the page flipped it shut. "_Dream reading; Prophecies foretold?" _He smirked, "I thought you knew better."

Harry considered the book for a moment. He had, following another of his reoccurring dreams beginning in the attic of that white house and leading into the main hall, checked this book out under the nose of a rather angry librarian. He had only just remembered it that afternoon, buried as it was in the box of books and papers he recently had come to call his trunk. He briefly considered his array of lies and which would more convincing. "Extra credit work."

Tom's smirk deepened as this use of his very favorite excuse and he asked quite politely. "For what class?"

Harry blanked.

Tom's smirk curled a little as he flipped the book open and began to read the jacket.

Harry brushed his bangs back with a sigh, clearly cornered. What was the harm in asking? It would definitely be an educated opinion. "Do you think they exist?"

Tom looked up from his reading with something of a surprise. "Prophecies?"

Harry hurtled on. "Yes."

Tom fixed his cold eyes on Harry's. Harry found himself watching them for something. Tom flipped the book shut at last. "We write our own destinies." he said at last, as though they were touching a subject he was weary to breach.

Harry took the book back from him, never letting the irony of Tom's disbelief in prophecies touch him. Somewhere nearby Harry could hear Slughorn's voice reverberating.

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Gryffindor tower 1996

Hermione was sad. There was no other word for it. Depressed was too common, aggrieved implied death; but she would never admit Harry's death, not until she saw him with her own two eyes.

Huddled away in an armchair she poured over the marauders map at length while Ron, laying on his stomach at her feet cranked out his rather dilapidated essay. Professor Dumbledore had found her four hours ago now, alone in the library well past curfew. At first she had thought he was going to reprimand her and that feeling was followed by her first ever desire she to ignore professor Dumbledore's and his sage advice. Instead, he had taken the seat she had left had sworn had been occupied only seconds before by a pile of parchment, and smiled at her through with deep eyes.

Amidst the piles of disused books and parchment filled with hours of laborious and fruitless notes, she had realized what it must look like to him. That she, a teenager, would be able to find a solution where he hadn't. She had looked down, prepared to be ashamed but he had spoke calmly. The blue silence of the library reflected in his tone.

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal, Miss granger." He paused twittling his thumbs. " It is the courage to continue that counts." He reached into his robes and pulled out the marauders map. "I will not be needing this anymore." He placed the rolled up thing on the book before her. "Perhaps you will succeed where I have failed."

The dust on the books did not stir and though she doubted his final words, she had taken the map and words to heart. Perhaps with Dumbledore's change of mind, he had moved on to some other plan that would bring Harry home to them.

Hermione reached past Ron and picked up her wand on the table before her. "_Revelous._"

Ron looked up from his essay. "Still nothing." He scratched himself casually and she sighed.

Hermione looked away. Ron dropped his quill and moved to his feet. He lifted the map from Hermione's hands softly. She recoiled and looked up at Ron, who in the light of the fire looked even more sleepy than he had on the floor in the dark. "Hermione, have you looked at this map?"

She rested her head on the chair. "Yes Ron, everything seems to be in order. The people are still there, the rooms are still there, I don't know what to tell you."

"No, I mean, have you looked at the map?" Ron asked, excitement building in his throat.

Hermione looked up and Ron sat down on the arm of the chair. "What is it?" She asked after scanning the map and seeing nothing particularly malinfested.

"Malfoy happens to be alone in the library." he said, looking down at the map.

"Where?" Hermione's head came up from the side of the chair.

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Harry's POV 1949

Slughorn came puttering into the great hall without much speed. In fact, he looked downtrodden and limp, stopping before Harry and Tom with out any bobbing or smiling on Tom's behalf. Tom moved forward so that he was beside Harry, his face the smooth mask it always was, sculpted into the perfect face of pleasant conversation. "Good evening professor."

"Good evening Tom." He was looking at his watch and glancing behind him. "Where the devil has Barmous got to?"

In the hall behind him, Harry could hear the low scraping of metal on stone, and slow footsteps. "Come on Barmous, put a step in it." he looked back at the boys, bags under his eyes evident, "We haven't got all night you know.." he muttered.

Tom quirked his eyebrow and moved to the side as the new caretaker came lopping in. Harry moved to make room instinctively. Barmous was clutching a mop and pail, and visibly favoring his left side. He coughed lightly and turned to them in some interest.

"Been hopping through hoops all day." Slughorn was grumbling, pulling papers from his pockets. "Don't even have time to make rounds with you."

"You've been busy?" Harry asked.

Slughorn gave him a baleful look. "Bossed about like some miserable excuse for a pack mule.." he ruffled, " I haven't been to my office all day."

"And you're going now sir?" Tom asked cordially, but Harry knew through a tuned mix of intuition and experience that this was a means of finding out where Slughorn would be later that night. Hadn't he mentioned wanting a word with Slughorn that morning? Harry racked his brains.

"Oh yes, I've got a whole pile of papers to grade, reports from substitutes to look through and that poor girl Myrtle is waiting for me. "

Harry looked back a Slughorn. "Myrtle?"

"Oh yes, Poor thing, I believe it's her transfiguration work again." He smoothed out his vest and placed his watch back into his pocket. "I swear, Dumbledore thinks he is teaching a crop of geniuses, the work he assigns you."

Tom smirked understandingly.

Harry however was barely following, as an idea had struck him. "Transfiguration?"

Slughorn motioned emphatically with his hand, "Yes, yes, disastrous class. I have had students visiting me all week. You must have a test soon."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I've never had much trouble with it actually. I had no idea it was such a burden for Myrtle."

Tom was watching Harry now, a look of understand barely obvious on his features. Harry was aware that the new caretaker was also following him quite carefully, a trait Harry that hadn't suited the last caretaker very well Harry recalled snidely.

Slughorn was now withdrawing a series of folded papers was saying. "One of these should give you tonight's schedule if I can just find it." Harry watched apprehensively as he began to unfold the papers.

"You know sir," Harry began, stepping back as Slughorn shifted and pulled an envelope out of his pocket only narrowly avoiding Harry's collar. "Sir, if you don't mind, I'm sure I could help Myrtle," Slughorn looked away from his paper, " especially if you feel like your place tonight is here."

Slughorn looked him up and down. "Dear dear boy, It would be far to much to ask–" he stopped. "No, it simply wouldn't do." There was a gleam in his eyes that clearly thought otherwise so

Harry continued. "Really sir, I'm sure it would be no trouble at all. I'm sure you know more about teaching caretakers anyway." He attempted a small smile. "I might be able to sort out her confusion and you can stay here with Tom, if he doesn't mind." _There, ask him whatever you need to._

Tom hooked Slughorn's vision. "Of course not." His eyes lingered on Harry for a moment, and he looked if anything, privately amused.

"Well, that's just lovely." Slughorn seemed to come to life. He bounced on the balls of his feet. "You do that Mister Potter, and ten points to Slytherin for the courtesy."

Toms smirk deepened.

"Now if you don't mind Mister Barmous, I think we should start on the third floor ."

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By the time Harry had reached the dungeons he could see his breath, pale blue and churning in the air. Harry suspected but could not confirm that a late winter snow had swirled angrily to breathing motion outside the castle, but from where Harry stood limbering up from his semi jog under a torch it looked no different than it had thirty minutes before. Slughorn's office was around the corner and Harry was taking a moment to stuff his bag with his books and, as an after thought retrieve his scarf. Bag loaded, he slung it back onto his shoulder and made his way down the passage. At the end he could just spot Myrtle with her feet dangling over the end of the wooden bench.

Harry slowed as he reached her and she cast a quick curious glance and then looked away as though mortified. Standing across from her she hid her gaze. "Hi."

Harry blinked, unnerved by how similar the living Myrtle was to her ghostly counterpart. "Hi Myrtle." He said as gently as he could without sounding like a deviant, probing her bag to the side so that he could sit down.

She hastened to move it for him but Harry was already sitting. "Did…I mean to say, are you here to see- no but you wouldn't be you're far too smart." She cast a sideways look.

"Actually," Harry wove the scarf about his neck, "I am here to see you." Myrtle went about as pale as sulphur and Harry as he was tying his scarf had the courtesy to pretend not to notice. "Professor Slughorn is currently showing about our new caretaker and as he couldn't make his appointment he asked me to come by and check up on things." The scarf now snug he added. "Transfiguration I think he said."

Harry looked over at her now and noticed that her transfiguration book was in her bag tucked between two other books, not out, open or bothered. Nor was any other book for that matter and he regretted mentioning her homework as it was quite clear that her reason for visiting Slughorn had a another meaning entirely.

"I-" she paused her eyes wide as though caught in a lie. "I- sure."

Harry blinked. "Or were you here for some other reason?" He attempted a concerned frown and found that his features, quite unused to apathetic postures nearly refused.

"That is to say- yes. I came for transfiguration. Like I did last time." She smiled and looked down and Harry was struck by what a poor lie it was. What would she need to tell Slughorn? She reached for her book and Harry took it from her seamlessly.

He noticed as he flipped it open that her physical proximity was rather benign, as though she was attempting to tuck her entire body into her abdomen. Shoved into the front of the book was a wad of papers. "I- I don't know if you will be able to help me. I'm really lousy."

Some of the pages seemed to be rough drafts, the others Harry thought might be mistakes. Harry borrowed her quill and began to circle. "Here," he motioned, "the properties don't match-"

"Match?"

"Yes, that's why you have probably been getting unsymmetrical results."

"Oh. Right" she was staring at him now quite openly. Harry asked for her book and she handed it over willingly. He circled three more answers and flipped to the index of the book. "Just, change that-" another circle "and questions three and five will make more sense and-" Harry flipped another page trying his best to finish up quickly when a sheet of paper caught his eye. A sheet of paper with very familiar careful handwriting.

She was studying him still, less shyly then at first. "You remind me of your friend."

Harry was blinking, wondering weather or not he could slip the paper open. He was sure he knew the handwriting. Positive actually, he knew it like a book from his own childhood. But why would anything Tom had written be in her book? "My friend?" he muttered?

"Yeah Tom, the other prefect, you look alike."

Harry blinked. Maybe he could angle the book to slip the page away.

"Tom, yeah I guess so, tall, er tall type, dark hair.."

"No," she said and Harry looked up, "I mean smart."

Harry closed the book. "Here." He handed her the papers. "That should do it, if you don't understand the notes in the margins just find me."

She nodded, and Harry began to collect his bag, the mysterious page loosely piled on top. "Thanks Harry." She was holding her book looking sort of confused. "Will Slughorn be back tonight."

Harry gave her his most pleasing smile. "Not until very late."

She nodded looking more nervous than Harry had ever remembered.

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The common room was dark when Harry returned. The fire had already started to die, and for the most part the chilly room was mostly vacant. The clock above the mantel read that it was just ten o'clock, an hour that usually had the common room bustling with older students cramming in a bit of last minute studying. Tonight however it was still. Perhaps the cold had driven the Slytherins to their beds. Harry made for the couch laid back from and the fire and noticed the familiar blonde glisten. He dropped his bag heavily on the cushions. Grodisisous looked up, a faint sneer etched into his pointy face. "Back so soon?"

Harry gave him his very best charming grin. "Yeah. I thought you'de be glad." It was almost outright mockery. He wondered for a minute why he bothered.

The trace of a snarl curved his mouth but he said nothing, leaning back and sinking into a lethargic staring contest with the fire. Harry flopped down next to him. "What are you doing?" he asked his eyes moving from the fire to Malfoy.

"What exactly do you want?" Malfoy spat boldly.

Harry thought for a minute, unsure of his reasons for instigating. He shrugged, still smiling. "Nothing, You relax." Harry reached into his bag for a book, thinking it best he read the letter in the privacy of the dormitory later. Tom would expect him to wait up and think it odd if he didn't. He didn't want to risk it. Suspicion was the most lethal poison in a Slytherin's armory. Instead he plucked up his book on prophecies. He had only just found his spot when Malfoy spoke.

"It won't be like this much longer."

Harry looked back at him, sensing some words of lasting portent. " And what exactly will change?"

Malfoy tilted his head and in the firelight Harry caught a glimpse of the aristocratic air he sometimes alluded. It was surprisingly elegant and more unnerving then he would have thought.

"Tom Riddle." A pause poignant with hesitation. "Voldemort. Whatever we are supposed to call him these days."

Harry had forgotten his book. "What makes you say that?" He had a flashing doubt; the thought of Tom plotting against him with Grodisisous and Lestrange.

"He's the real deal Potter." Malfoy was looking at the fire again and it was absolutely caught in his hair. "He's going to be powerful. He already is."

Harry, now aware of exactly how dangerous this converstaion was instructed his eyes to glance at the portrait hole subtly. "Yeah. But I think we both already knew that."

Malfoy laughed a little in a cold and biting way, as though he knew something that Harry had been too preoccupied to notice. "He's not going to share it with you- that power." a very dark expression had worked into Malfoy's features. "It will be his."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, attempting to sound as though he was humoring Malfoy even though a shiver had run through him.

"Yeah." Malfoy mimicked bitterly. "You're not like the rest of us Potter. You hold it in, you're methodical. He respects you, but it won't be long before he fears you."

Harry looked hard at him, dropping all pretense. "And then?"

"You'll be sorry you ever messed with me." Malfoy was looking him dead on now with all of the cold fury his son would one day use to bully a generation. "Because while he will never respect me, he'll also never fear me."

"Is that pride Malfoy?" Harry asked, feeling uncomfortable. "What a way to live."

"That's just it Potter, I'm going to, but you-" He stopped now, scowling.

Harry nodded, leaning back against the couch, never breaking his eye contact. It was a long and bizarrely narrow minute, staring intently at Grodisisous and contemplating his next move. "You know Malfoy, it's really a pity."

Malfoy's nose twitched slightly, taken aback and unprepared he spat. "Not exactly my first thought." Then scowling he recovered. "I really see no tragedy here, well at least not from where I'm sitting."

"Well I do." Harry shot back, loving the slight twitch of Malfoy's lip. "You're probably right. He won't confide in me for long." Harry straightened his cuff. "But when I rejoin you, I'll have some pretty valuable information." Malfoy's brows knit.

"If you rejoin us-"

"Which I will, I assure you." Harry smirked. "The real question is who do you want me to go to with this know-how?" Harry's lip twitched. "You," he smirked, "or Lestrange?"

For the first time Malfoy looked behind him at the portrait hole. "I suppose that all depends on your meaning Potter."

"I mean protecting ourselves."

Malfoy relaxed a little. "Of course."

"Think about it Malfoy. Right now, you and Lestrange are in the same water. You've both known each other since infancy. But when Tom makes his stand, things are going to shift. It's going to be me and one of you."

Malfoy jerked a little. "You're hoping."

Harry laughed. "Personally I would rather it was you and I anyway, I can't stand the all the bleeding gobstones."

Malfoy sneered in what Harry assumed was a mockery of his humor. He was staring into the fire again. At last he bowed his head. "So what are you saying, we cut Lestrange out?"

Harry nodded feeling elated that things had changed in his favor. He straightened his face, this was business. "You and me, we stay in this. We take our cut of Tom's glory and knock Lestrange's ration out of the calculations."

Malfoy nodded. "Ok, figure it out, then you say the word Potter."

Harry nodded thinking that perhaps he just killed two birds with one stone as he might be able to make use of Malfoy's influence, not to mention the avoidance a bitter enemy. Harry smiled, rolling his shoulders and tossing his head back. "Say a word to Lestrange though and I'll kill you. you know." He laughed as his eyes follwed Malfoy's into the flames.

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The light was shining placidly over Draco's back as he shoveled old newspapers of minor importance back into their original shelves. He had stacked the more prudent papers in a pile on the table which moved slightly as he leaned against it, tired and yet rewarded. He studied the candle as it shook, wax running down into the candle holder.

He contemplated bringing it back to the dormitory with him when he heard a noise from behind a shelf. Quickly he leaned forward and blew the candle out. Silently he collected the papers and shrunk back. There was an echoing sound, footsteps, and an aggressive "Shhhh," that shook the papers in the shelves around him. "Oh yeah Hermione. That's much sneakier" blew forth in a sarcastic masculine snap

"Ouch Ron." A minor shuffle. "Watch the shelves."

Malfoy almost sneered audibly. Had they been more covert they might have found something of great intrest to them, but how much could be expected from a mudblood and a boy sidekick? He made to move back between the shelves, the intention of sneaking out now quite plain.

"Do you think he is here?"

"Of course he is here. That's what the map says."

"Trust Malfoy to be sneaking around."

Draco paused in mid sneak. Clutching his wand he crept between the shelves. How could they have possibly known that he was here? If they had known then, did they know that even now he was only feet away from them? Within lunging distance of Weasley's chunky fingertips, Malfoy sucked in his breath and held still. The urge to run screamed in his legs but he could not find the courage to move them. He slunk behind the shelf across from them and then safely behind broke into a sprint for the door, his breath coming in hitches, he slipped out unseen.

The hallways were dark, but not as dark as the sky in which the reflection of something decidedly ominous shivered. He broke out into a run, all fears of Flich assuaged by the sound of the torches and the breeze. Even still he was happy when the dungeons folded around him. He made pointedly for the his dormitory distracted by what he had read and heard. He let the portrait fall shut behind him harder than was fully smart and he winced accordingly. He studied the common room. Empty. He had done well in ushering out lingering students earlier and found his reward now in a dark, empty space where he could spread out his papers and study.

He tossed the papers on the nearest table while he shed his sweater, flumping down feeling distinctly dejected and wilted from the exhaustion of running in fear down several corridors. He now bent over and spread out his materials. The gravety of the situation was heavy on his shoulders as he flipped open a paper dated May 15 1949. There was a picture of students in mourning, teachers in veils. _Students and Faculty mourn as Investigations close at last. _He looked over the picture and picked Harry out of the crowd. Tall and sober he stood between two other boys, his grandfather and Tom Riddle. Toms eyes were unfathomable, he ran his fingers over the ink and blinked. He was quite sure he had seen his Grandfather and Harry exchange a glance. The third boy he had seen in the library, a relative of his Aunt Bellatrix's family was absent.

He pawed through the pile pulling out an especially yellow copy, this one was dated in late March. _Attacks continue, hope steadily diminishing. _There was a picture of two middle aged adults, both with dark hair and though it was hard to tell, decidedly yellow complexions. He scanned the article until he found a three sentence reference to the good prefects of Slytherin and Gryffindor houses. Foul play undoubtedly Malfoy thought as he flicked the page sharply.

Another picture of Harry, smirking handsomely next to Riddle. The caption read _The_ _Gifted and Talented; either way Nice job class of '49 winners._ Academic rewards? His eyes met Harry's printed ones and he was stricken as if with the negery of the undead. Living and yet unseen, Potter was shifteing the future from inside his head. It was he Malfoy who was going insane. This paper evidence was an illsuion. His father would have to lock him away. It would be scandalous. His mother would drink herself to placidity. Malfoy dropped the paper with nimbly shaking hands. His fingers felt like accessories, not extremities as he picked himself up off the chair. He let out a long and shaking breath, feeling stricken and ill. He had never been prone to self doubt; the feeling was lower then he might have imagined.

He had seen Potter hadn't he? He had seen his grandfather, Tom Riddle, the Hogwarts hallways as clearly as he now saw the fire. The urge to do something rash rushed back into him and he felt it with a lurch in his navel that fast transformed into a feeling of actual sickness. What could he do except find a way to contact Potter? Could that be done?

And there from some sneaky place inside his head it came. _You did once already Draco_. _Suppose you contacted Potter? Then he could prove this wasn't just some hellish nightmare. Maybe you could bring him back. Put him where he belongs. Take him out of your past. Your traditions preserved. _

But how could this be accomplished? He wasn't really sure how he had managed it the first time, the thought of a second visiting was almost worse than sitting helpless. It all started with that map he decided, and so that was what he would need. He would need the map to accomplish anything. There was the dead end. Dumbledore had that map and there was absolutely no way he would be able to steal it without being caught or worse interrogated.

"_Do you think he is here?" _

"_Of course he is here. That's what the map says." _

Malfoy froze at this memory. The map had passed to Granger, he was suddenly sure of it, as sure as he was that they had been in the library anticipating him. He titled his head up toward the ceiling and yawned, considering his wide array of options.

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By the time Tom returned, Malfoy had gone to bed. The entire common room was desserted and cold, the only life source eminating from the fire and the common rooms one lonely occupant. Tom seemed to have sensed him before Harry had time to declare his presence because he could feel Tom's shadow over his shoulder. "I'm not sure whether to be impressed or suspicious." Tom flicked non existence dust off from the couch behind Harrys head; so close he felt his hair rustle. It was time for his bedtime intimidation turned pleasantries.

"I see no reason for you to be suspicious." Harry said lowly, so as not to cause an echo.

He heard Toms smirk. "You wouldn't" the sound of his bag, and then Tom was beside him looking into the fire. "You remembered I wanted to speak to Slughorn."

Harry nodded.

Tom raised a brow. "Observant."

Harry nodded again. "I try to be. It seems like whenever I am I suceed in being of some use to you."

A moment of silence. "I wasn't complaining."

The room was quiet and sleepy. Harry listened and picked out Toms breathing from his own to remind him that he was alive. Then Tom looked away from the fire. "The new caretaker is similarly observant but needless to say I find it less endearing."

Harry smiled. "I noticed earlier that he seemed curious."

Tom nodded. "He'll need watching if I'm to be able to accomplish what I want in the next month."

Harry looked up seeing where the conversation was going. "You want me to keep an eye on it."

Tom nodded. "Both if you can spare them." His face was a stark contrast of Malfoys, dark and complex. "He will catch on though. Use Malfoy and Lestrange when you can to elongate your grace period. After that you have my permission to use whatever means you deem necessary."

As always a silent "Refrain from implicating me, I will deny you." hung between them.

Harry nodded. His most loyal, his most trusted. He alone had waited up for him and he alone had been expected. Harry could understand why Voldemorts followers were so fanatic. He made a vow that would never let that happen to him.

"Tom."

Toms eyes moved onto Harry's.

"You might want to watch what you say to Malfoy."

Toms eyes grew darker, flickering between Harry's. "Oh?"

"He has a habit of drawing conclusions. And in case you hadn't noticed he strongly dislikes me."

Toms face contrived into a sneer. "This would be sarcasm?"

Something about the darkness had instilled a confidence in Harry. Call it intuition, call it heroism. Maybe he was tired of living in a shell. "You've never had a friend have you?"

Toms face was unchanged but his eyes were intent. "I have plenty of people willing to sacrafice for me."

Harry nodded. "I mean real friends Tom, people who are willing to sacrafice whether or not you give them things."

Tom leaned back against the couch, every inch of his posture scoffing the notion of mutual loyalty. "You realize of course, how ridiculous that is."

"Why?" Harry was smirking now, aware that he was poking into Toms proverbial soul with all the force and precision of a blunt stick.

"Anyone who is willing to sacrafice without gain is a fool." Tom said this with such a comfortable certainty that it made Harry ache to truly agree with him.

"I suppose." Harry conceded. "In a way."

"Sacrafice needent always be shared." Tom cocked his head to the side. "A friendship can consists of two parties. One who provides a service, another that rewards it."

"That's called business Tom." Harry smirked. "Not friendship. Friendship consists of risks and interest."

"In that way I feel we must be very good friends." Tom turned his gaze back on Harry. "You do interest me," his eyes took in his face, "but I am constantly aware of the risk."

Harry almost wished he could bottle the charm that Tom could so casually exude. "The risk?" Harry dared, not entirely sure he would like to hear the answer.

Toms eyes puzzled over Harry's movements for a moment. "Suppose you were not who you said you were." It was only with very great exertion that Harry mamaged to keep his facial muscles under control, the urge to flinch was so great, Harry just maged to quell it intime to be prepared for another mental urging. He found with great surprised that his real need was to smile. He wanted to grin so desperately he could barely conatin it. "What then?"

"Who else would I be?"

Tom regarded him for a moment. "I have an experiment Harry." He waited for Harry to nod. "I think you might be the perfect candidate."

Harry slunk back against the cushion. "An experiment."

"It helps me to find you when I need you."

"Like a pager?" Harry watched the regognition in Toms eyes at the muggle refrence.

"They are similar, but I think you'll find that mine is more perminant."

"What are you going to tatoo it on."

Toms eyes flickered as he straightened his robes. "Something like that."

00000

Tricksy yes? Some underlying inner circle tension and the introduction of the dark mark. Again, any questions or comments? Direct them to my inbox. I love to chat.


	27. Exile

Months and days without a thing. As always, I am so sorry about my inability to post like most humans. Please enjoy the newest part of the story. It may extend past thirty one chapters now. Also, if I have any right to say so it might make this chapter easier if you (the lovely patient readers) read the chapter before this one more time to rejuvenate the plot line.

This is not edited. I wrote the chapter out today and decided to post it. I will fix it up later. If anyone else would like to do it I would be very pleased.

I have found that there are many parts in this story where I have something to prattle on with. Instead of adding AN, I have provided asterisks. You many choose to read my opinion if you would like. They are at the end of this section.

Harry regains some terror.

The dark mark in the chapter is ink and is washable.

The title is stolen from the name of a photo in a collection of wide angle pictures from National Geographic. It is therefore, stolen. From the photographer or writer.

I am debating giving Lucius a small roll to play. Does anyone have any objections?

As always please review. I may create a poll at some point regarding the direction certain people are to go in. Feel free to weigh in when that comes on. I would be dearly touched.

* * *

Paradise as a place of exile and incarceration

The room was dark and surprisingly warm, the soft sound of Lestrange's snoring a would be lullaby. Harry rolled over onto his side, licking his dry lips and sighed. He couldn't sleep. His mind didn't want it though his body seemed determined to need it; somewhere to his left Malfoy coughed and he was forcibly reminded of that new arrangement. That new loyalty cum necessity. Lestrange's snoring no longer seemed so calming. Harry was surprised by the discomfort he felt now, alone in his bed at the prospect of removing Lestrange from the inner circle. It was dangerous, not just for Lestrange himself but for Harry in larger measure. Any maneuvering amongst Tom's friends would draw attention. But what if Harry needed Lestrange's slot? What if he really was in immediate danger, from Tom? It was a mess, a silent carefully arranged mess.

Harry pressed his head back against the pillow again, looking up at the top of his curtains. Immediate danger? A roaring snore shuddered over him from the darkness. Slytherin was such a strange house. How could anyone stand living this way all the time? No wonder they were all such assholes.

00

Draco,

As a father it shames me to find my son only more than a tolerable imbecile,

Draco flinched, his arm catching the edge of his breakfast. A rosy flush lit up his cheeks and he corrected it.

I am sorry to hear that the words of mudbloods and blood traitors have left you doubting the purity of your own, superior heritage. In many ways I doubt my own implication. If it really were the deadpan hollering of teenage rivalry you would never have written to me. I'll ask you to tell me now who it is you have been hearing such rumors from in your next letter if my surmise is not correct. As it is I cannot help but suspect the that the only culprit with enough knowledge to instill reasonable doubt would be Mr. Blaise Zabini, whose grandmother I believe was a near relative on my side and a distant connection on your mother's. If you begin to find Mr. Zabini's insults to be so tiresome, I would suggest reminding him that his own grandfather was nothing more than a scholarship graduate and that it is only by his mother's blood that he continues to live so well. Perhaps that would remind him to leave respectable male lines well enough at a distance. Good day to you son, as always,

Father

Draco blinked ruefully for a second or two before scowling and pressing the letter into his bag. Not only was the letter completely off topic, it was not in the least compelling. His father had not mentioned one aspect of his own father leaving Draco to wonder just as before if any of it was true. The newspaper clippings in his bag acted as their own conformation however. A rush of anxiety whipped at his body. He had been secretly hoping his father would come up with evidence against this ludicrous idea. If he had been holding out for the letter he was sadly abandoned.

If anything, assuming it was insider information worked against his wish that this was all just some strange mistake or cold trickery from the staff.

From the Gryffindor table he felt both of Potter's friends eyes watch him stand up. Scheming little idiots. Something caught his arm and his first instinct to whip it away won over any of his good pedigree and breeding. A girl caught their breath and he looked down to see Pansy watching him, looking slightly fearful. He wasn't going to deal with this now; he had much bigger fish to fry. He shot her a look and she looked away, anger playing with her brow. Draco drained the last of his juice and seized his bag to make a hasty exit. What remained now, was to formulate a plan and he didn't expect to proceed without the map, the one he thought was probably even now in Granger's bag.

His eyes searched for the bag across the hall and spotting it on the back of Grangers bench, zipped and full to the top he thought it looked like little more than an impregnable fortress of sorts. Any movement would surely either split the bag or cause the kind of noise that one dared not make when stealing. He could obtain the map though some other means, but then the biggest issue was still unsolved.

Draco was by no means a fool but as far as magical knowledge went he supposed he was far from his league where the map was the point. Dumbledore no doubt had struggled. He, Draco stood little chance of cracking into the knowledge it contained.

00

It was breakfast time on a Saturday. This meant that most of the Ravenclaws had already had a meal as the other houses leaked in late. As Harry looked around the great hall he wondered why all the blue ties felt the need to be so categorically on time.*

Gavivi, half slumbering where he sat seemed to be thinking along Harry's lines, if there was a thought in his tanned, curly head (tumbling gently into milk every exhalation that lifted it). Tom had eaten early and made his way the library where Harry was supposed to meet him within the next three hours. Grodsiusius followed behind him, all his dislike transformed into a kind of smug sense of knowing something others didn't. Lestrange, looking up from his bacon watched the procession with a still worry.

"Morning," Grodsiusius muttered to Lestrange, his eyes unusually bright.

Lestrange lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah," a sense of real self interest only could be his emotion, "Where have you lot been?"

Harry quickly derived that he meant himself and Grodsiusius. "Bed."** He picked up a piece of his own toast, wishing Malfoy might have looked less deranged. There was no reason at all to want Lestrange watching himself. "I fell asleep later than you."

Lestrange was looking toward Malfoy, waiting for his reason. Grodsiusius remained stoic. Harry launched him a look. Malfoy sensed it and sneered. "Studying," he spat, seconds later than it should have been.

Lestrange glared at him. "For what?"

Malfoy blanched. Harry knew from the tense feel of it that his eyes looked angry. Sitting back Harry gave him a hand, "Remedial potions."

Malfoy's eyes were displeasure as Lestrange grinned. "I didn't know it was that bad Malfoy."

Malfoy shrugged, snagged between Harry and Lestrange, choosing what seemed the more likely to give him some kind of joy. Harry knew Malfoy was itching to dispense of Lestrange if he thought he could have Harry. "Just an excuse to see Slughorn."

Lestrange, mollified went back to eating and Malfoy gave Harry a look that commanded his pain. Harry smirked as he snagged a piece or two of bacon. Taking a swig of juice he mouthed "later" at Grodsiusius who did not seem really calmed and made for the door. Between tom and Malfoy, he chose the potential of pain and death almost always.

He tripped over a short hufflepuff in the first floor bathroom as he fixed his shirt and washed his hands after failing to do so that morning in his attempt to allude Grodsiusius. He watched the kid run off without much interest, wondering who he was. It was always possible, that the people he met would spawn the people he lived with in normal times.

The library was quiet and warm. Outside, a soft but heavy shower of cold rain fell. He found Tom secluded in his usual corner with a book open. His looked up as Harry entered and then muttered something as though struck by an idea. He crossed off a paragraph in the book and beckoned him forward. "Good morning Harry."

Harry arched his eyebrow and looked at the book. It was entirely in a language he could not read. "Goblin?"

Tom closed the book and moved his quills. "Mostly."

Harry sat down, feeling a little like a student summoned to a teacher. "About?"

Tom sighed a little, his shoulders slumping. "Fighting mostly." He thought as he looked past Harry at the shelves. "That's all the goblins, clever though they are, think to write about."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

Tom caught his look now and smirked. "I'll let you do the reading." He was reaching through his bag now. "No, I want you to look at something much more interesting." Tom opened a blue notebook to a page and passed it to Harry. It too was filled with the kind of arithmetic like writing of spell making and alteration. For a moment Harry felt quite afraid, because Tom expected him to comprehend the garble. His eyes scanned the writing in hurried motions. Tom watched him, waiting. Was this some sort of test? Surely it was. Or did Tom think he was really as smart as he was? A silence and to Harry's disbelief he noted a word on the side Hermione had once used. " It's a protean charm?"

Tom nodded, watching Harry's face. A protean charm? They had used it on the DA coins. Alter one end the others alter as well. The makings on the dark mark. This comprehended several of the sketches on the page came to his attention. "You're putting it on the skin?" Harry looked at a strange star like symbol with several numbers staggered about it. "You've altered it."

Tom took the book back from Harry's hands. "I have, several times as I keep changing my mind."

Harry nodded. "What do you plan to do with it?"

Tom paused and stared down at the page. "What would you do with it Harry?" He smiled pleasantly, "I've many ideas. I could use it to call you, to speak to you, to control your feelings or your deeds." He looked up at Harry and he was just recovering from the fright. "You don't like the idea of me inside your head?" He tipped his face solemnly and looked at him. "I thought not."

Harry watched him, "Imagine all the time you would have to put into following me around."

Tom smiled. "No, I suppose that would be rather wasteful. There are other ways of doing that."

Harry wanted to press himself against his chair. "To call me to you?"

Tom nodded, "To summon you. To give you a place to apparate."

Harry nodded his head. "To speak to me?"

"And you to me." Tom brushed his finger along the edge of the page. "Unless you would tire of me?"

Harry met his eyes and it felt for a moment heart rendering. At last Harry spoke. "No, I'll test it for you."

Everything he knew told him to leave.

Tom looked back at the book. "We'll do it in ink, with my quill at first. It should wash off when you shower."

Harry startled. "It doesn't stay on me?"

Tom watched him. "Not yet. Let me finish it."

Harry rolled up a sleeve. Tom picked up the quill and studied the tip. "Will you have one then?" Harry realized that this seemed to require dual work. Tom's eyes met Harry's, just another way that he could not own him.

Another partnership and not a victory. "For now." Harry started when Tom touched his hand. He was surprised at the shock. Had he ever touched him before? A finger deftly pushed away the bottom of his white oxford and revealed his wrist. The other hand brought with it the tip of the feather on his soft flesh. Three fast lines later and he bore a snake like shape with a line. It was small and out of the way, a doodle to the eye of his friends. Tom let go of his hand and Harry bent over to blow on it.

"No-" Tom was faster than Harry, tugging his shirt back into place. "Don't touch it." Now, with easier precision Tom drew his own, upon completion he spent a moment starting at Harry's arm. "I need to see it."

Harry revealed his skin again.

Tom looked at his arm and then Harry's wrist. "Don't move." He opened the book with one hand and with the other still held away began to speak in Latin. Harry felt a swoop of horror. What if tom had done something else to the mark? Without much civility, a powerful tingling feeling crept through his hand and wrist. Tom stopped and looked up.

" I felt it."

Tom pushed the book at him, "If you would say that,"

Harry took the page between his hands and read the page silently, under his breath. He saw Tom scowl. Had he done it wrong? Harry looked at him questioningly.

Tom shrugged away the look by touching the ink. "It's fine."

Harry nodded, his question answered without being said. Then, Tom's lips had not moved. Tom smirked at Harry's looks of surprise. "How did you say that?"

"Touch the mark and you should be able to do it as well."

Hesitantly Harry touched his arm, "Did it hurt you when I cast it."

"No."

"Will it work if I cannot see you."

"Yes. As long as you touch it."

Harry let go of the mark, afraid his brain would spit out a hidden sentence he wished to remain within.

00

Dinner was ending and Draco found that this was a thing to rejoice. He was sitting, in the middle of library, completely alone and surrounded by chairs. But where else would he be? Eating? Nonsense. But waiting for Potter's sidekicks did have it's drawbacks. Sighing, Draco flicked the wooden table.

He had thought that perhaps, upon map gazing they might use the opportunity to attempt to find him again. Most particularly without his companions. He had no misconceptions about their finding him in the library. They knew he was in it and they knew no one was their to fight them. They wanted to see him. He would turn it back. Listening for any stumbling, Draco dragged a chair to him and put his feet on it, crossing them above the shin.

Waiting. For two complete morons to catch on and attempt to thwart him.

Somewhere a clock ticked and he suspected that had his life been lived in cartoon animation, crickets would have chirped. Fuck.

There was the scratch of a door opening. Draco pulled up his feet. He listened for talking heads in the rows of the shelves but heard none. The scrape of a chair then a sigh. Draco leaned back in the chair until a leg had separated from the carpet. To his sense of self delight he could barley control himself. Hermione Granger was sitting alone with her hands over her eyes. Before the smile could even nuzzle into it's place it shivered. Could they be trying to bring him to them? Was Ronald somewhere in the book shelves, waiting to hex him? Hermione shook a little and the stood up.

He paused as the girl began to read, standing and shivering. Her book bag lay on the ground, untouched and unwatched. A strange kind of anxiety was fastening him to his chair. What if he was seen?

Stun her.

What if she stuns you first and then drags you off to have those words they were looking for last night?

Stun her.

What if-

Just get,

She decides to get Ron,

the map-

And they bring you to the teachers, to Albus,

The Map.

He stood up and kept low. No longer waiting his legs seemed loose. He waited for her to turn, to walk toward the window before reaching for it. He caught the back and dragged it toward him, feeling all the perverseness if she saw him. He dragged out a werewolf themed book, pushed past a note book and his fingers felt the rough paper. The map. He pulled it out hastily, flinching. He hurriedly tossed the book back in and couldn't be assed into putting it back where he had dragged it. She would notice the missing thing tonight. It would not make it any better. He had the map. He ran.

He crept past the books and into the hallway. Once there he felt all the luck of it and took off faster than his parents might have. His heart was beating with a kind of childish delight. He had accomplished a task he was sure would draw more attention or work. He stopped half way down the staircase and pulled it back into his hands. He opened it and blinked more then once before snarling. In place of a map was nothing more than creamy white. ***

00

Harry had almost forgotten about the mark by patrol time but not the pain. The pain kept him rubbing the ink tattoo with a finger before pulling it away to hide his thinking mind. He was alone in the corridor just a brushing away from Tom. His pace was steady and his hands diligently in his pockets. He was on his way to the prefects meeting which had probably already begun. Late and tired. He wanted to wash it off before he slept. The prefects meeting was on the second floor so when Harry tip toed into the room and found Professor Tweety at work he sat down and tried to listen.

"Have we found anything wrong with the doors?"

A silence. Someone from Ravenclaw mentioned the door in the hall that did not close on the first floor. Harry's wrist burned. He wondered again what the spell had done.

"Do the towers need extra protection from student visits?"

The only thing they needed protection from was professor Slughorn who had started to dump noxious potions over the railings at night when he thought he could get away with it. Harry realized he was pressing on the mark and put his hand on his lap.

"How about you Mr. Potter, what do you think?"

What had he been speaking about now? "I'm not sure I know enough to have much of an opinion."

Professor Tweedy smiled and moved on biting his nails and talking about fires. Where was professor Dumbledore? Had he been called away to London? Perhaps he was still tending to the caretaker.

"Speaking of which have you seen to him at all?"

Harry blinked at the interruption. Tom's voice was louder than if he had been speaking to him. Had he forgotten to move his fingers?

Harry touched his mark slowly. "I think he tries not to be near to me alone."

A silence. Tom's face when Harry checked was on the front of the room. Harry longed to be back in bed, where it was warm and he could think without having to share. Where Malfoy would find him and talk to him and Lestrange would watch from afar. Planning. That was what he would do, he would not take it like Malfoy. There was a lot of force, no, pride to Lestrange that would not allow for such easy loss. He would fight, not because he wanted it but because he could not have it stolen away. Perhaps if Harry could convince him not to mingle, that it was in his best interest to walk way he could do this without upsetting. He could talk to Lestrange, tell him his plan with Malfoy but convince him to walk away. If he agreed it wasn't taken but given.

"Harry, he will most certainly see though that."

Harry ripped his hand away from his arm. Why couldn't he leave it be?

"See what?"

"That you are mollifying him. Surely that would send him to Malfoy."

Harry sneered. Then he would lose.

Maybe if Lestrange felt he came to the decision on his own and Harry pretended to be in need of him, he could convince Lestrange to abandon him. What could he do to make Lestrange dislike the position he was in? Whom did he love? What did he care for?

This whole plan was foolish. He should just leave him in an abandoned corridor on a night the chamber was open. Surely the basilisk would only petrify him as it had the others.**** That would buy him some time.

"They'll revive him eventually."

Harry sighed and didn't bother to remove his hand. " could push him over the ramparts and somehow convince Slughorn he had done it on a night time potion disposal."

There was a silence. A long one. "Your memory charm would have work well."

"He's smart about those kinds of things. It would have to be well done."

"Incredibly Potter."

Harry sighed. "I wouldn't attempt it."

A snicker.

"I wonder what he would do? His instinct would be to cover it up but he would know Dumbledore would find out." Harry touched the mark and thought hard.

Tom had stopped laughing. "He would hide it anyway Harry and do you know why?" Tom's voice was less cold. "He would never think to use an apology as an excuse."

Harry shivered a little. That was because Slughorn would feel remorse Harry decided. He informed Tom.

Silence.

* * *

*Blue ties just seems like the most jaunty way to refer to Ravenclaws doesn't it? Gives it that nice uppity prepster feel.

**Alarmingly homoerotic I must say?

*** Map requires certain words to open.

**** Harry says others here, something Tom probably should have realized. Harry shouldn't know a whole bunch about the petrifying


	28. What ever happened to Harry Potter?

Hello guys! I think that it would be ok to admit that this posting could be called a holiday miracle, so happy winter holiday of your choice ! I know many of you will be tempted, once again as you always are this time of year to send me rude and gratuitous reviews about the lateness of my chapter and as always I will welcome them with open understanding arms. But Imagine if this year, we all spun our negativity and syphoned off the ire into a great big ball of winter joy and kindness!

Well... it was a thought.

Once again thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story through all the years and a special thanks to MatasumotoXD who literally wrote me a wonderful song to get me to post a chapter- :)

This chapter is not particularly long; in fact it's about two thirds of the original chapter. But because it was taking a mighty long while I shaved off certain parts from the end and plan to put them into the next chapter. The result is a bit shorter but faster (Erm)

This chapter is not particularly long but I like to think of it as being the top of the hill. If the whole story up until this point could be broken down into a little metaphor Harry climbing up a hill he has just reached the top, every subsequent chapter from here on out will be the ride to the end. As always, reviews are cherished, loved and raised to be inspirations. And this year all flames will be used in a fit of holiday spirit to SET HAGRID'S HUT ON FIRE.

* * *

There was something about the weather that morning that Harry found oddly settling, as though he was not alone in his scheme but rather watched by the omnipotent heavens and their family. The rain pounded heavily on the walls and windows pattered and occasionally the odd rafter would groan, a spring bearing storm weathered the stones of the castle in such a way to shape it's future. This new erosion might have been familiar to him one day, he might have felt the stones under his hands in the years at the school he had spent on his own time. The roof of the great hall was a murky grey, the kind of grey that represented all the discontent he felt in his chest. Beside him Lestrange was pouring milk over his breakfast and beside him sat Malfoy, pointedly reading the paper and ignoring them. Harry tried his own eggs and winced at the pain on his forearm when his shirt touched it. The mark, now gone had left a painful spot that was nothing more or less a wound. Stretching his hand he noticed Tom's eyes note the motion. Harry met that gaze with more gusto then he felt and went back to his eggs. He was tired, having dreamt half the night strange visions of a parlor hall and the smell cut flowers. That same dream he had had so many times, sometimes following a figure, sometimes listening to the noises as a commotion broke out.

"Potter," Malfoy drawled, licking his fingers and flipping to the style section, "have you seen today's headline?"

Harry shook his head no. "Another clip about the school?"

Malfoy raised his eyes and grinned, "Perhaps. Misinformed as usual but a good picture." Shaking it out he slid it down the table to him. Picking it up Harry had to repress his need to laugh, staring into the photograph he snorted. Smiling up at him was a picture of himself, Tom smiling almost graciously at his side and and the new caretaker beside them. Fingers shaking slightly, the cause he couldn't quite pinpoint, he read the headline, _Hogwarts Moves to Maintain Continuity. _

Lestrange laughed, "Sure like you two to nab the picture. Perfect students."

Malfoy put down his story on a Monet exhibition and to Harry's shock began in on him. "What, model citizens, prefects and the highest combined grade point average since Albus Dumbledore's day?" He scoffed in Lestrange's surprised area, who genuinely taken aback stared. "You suppose they should have used you?"

Lestrange recovered, "No- I, I guess-"

Malfoy smiled poisonously and opened his page with a simple flourish that would have pleased a dandy. Lestrange had the good sense not to respond but could plainly tell there had been a shift in their inner power struggle, one that had left him outside. Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy at the panic he could sense on him; one that he knew should mean nothing to him. If he lived to escape this all then he and everyone else who had been burned would never have to feel had told Malfoy he would help him cut down Lestrange in return for his support. Play the game Harry.

"I suppose they took it when the reporters came," he handed the paper to a curious young Black and drank his pumpkin juice. "Notice how they always spell my name wrong."

Tom gave a light laugh and took the paper from the boy beside him who offered it before he could ask for it. "Of course they also have the date wrong Harry, if I were you I wouldn't bother over it much."

Lestrange laughed somewhat troublingly.

Tom shot him a look softer than ash that silenced him immediately. "Perhaps it would have been better to have Lestrange in the picture come to think of it-"

Malfoy's eyes were incredulous. "For what, to make you both look better?" Gavivi sniggered and Tom folded the paper over without speaking.

The bell rang and Harry gathered up his papers and shoved them away, his arm connecting with the table. He closed his eyes to prevent shouting.

---

Draco Malfoy had never been patient. Not when he was a child, not where his own interests were concerned and certainly not now on the brink of becoming his own man: a man likely involved in a scheme much bigger and complex then he knew how to understand, a man with all the tools but none of the knowledge needed to cut through the snarl of complex facts. Where ambition and manipulation were important he was ruthless and effective but where the force of knowledge alone was concerned he was by this game beaten.

"What do you think?" Draco asked and leaned back against the armchair with more haughtiness then the moment deserved. He had swallowed a mouthful of pride in coming to Knott and he would thereby assert himself at least, as far as the social order went, as superior.

Theo looked up from the blank map and blinked. "I think that If I didn't know any better, I would know you were playing a joke on me."

Draco scowled. He had never been a fan of Knott's humor or his character. Nott, born of good blood with little fortune had never possessed the fashion or the wit that bottomless fortune had given himself and because of it Nott couldn't posses the elegance, the accepted eccentricity or the easiness to please him. Draco liked to believe that he knew where to spot skill and in Nott there was an abundance. When he was feeling brave enough to admit it he could easily recognize a smartness about Nott that he himself did not have. Not that he wasn't clever but Draco knew that Nott would be a far cry closer to understanding the map's secret. Squinting he pushed himself closer, sighing "Just take a closer look."

Nott uncrossed his long fingers and looked down at the map. "It would help to know what I was looking at. As far as I can tell, you've passed me over an old piece of paper."

Draco scowled. "It's, a- a map, I know it is, Iv'e seen it," he ran his hands against his hair, "the thing is,"

Nott stopped him, "It's not yours and you don't know how to use it?"

Draco sneered and sat back against the velvet chair. "That would be the gist."

Nott nodded his head, as much in understanding as to silence him. Something about it rather bothered Draco. Nott drew the map closer to him and into the fire's light. Pausing he grabbed his bag and started to rummage through it. Draco watched him with the air of a dignitary as he pulled out a pair of glasses and slowly put them on his pale face. "So," Nott was looking down at the map, "what poor Gryffindor did you set Crabbe on to get this this from?"

Draco started placidly.

Nott shook his head in an almost disgusted way and took out his wand. "I only ask because it might help me put two and two together and see a way to open it."

Draco wrinkled his nose, "What difference does it make where I got it from? I asked you to help me open it not find a home for it."

Nott shrugged. "Things like this, homemade maps which-" he flipped it over and then back, "this clearly is are usually designed to suit the needs of the cartographer. Knowing it's origins are probably your biggest asset."

Draco started at him for a minute weighing his options. "The history is kind of convoluted." He paused. "I think it's older than it looks. I'm nearly sure the last owner didn't make it."

Nott leaned on an elbow, taking in what Draco knew was his less than calm exterior. "So who'd you nick it from then?"

Draco bit his tongue and with a scowl drummed his fist on the armrest, "It was Potter's."

Nott nodded his head, his tongue poking out. He started for a moment before chuckling and taking off his glasses. Draco watched him with some alarm, "What?"

Nott laughed, still shaking his head. "No way Malfoy," Draco blinked. "That boy goes missing for a month and you want me to poke through his clearly magical objects." He reached down and pushed the map smoothly across the table back to him. "You know I tend to keep my mouth shut where your various endeavors are and I'll stay the same to this point but there is no way I'm going to mess with it. Take the map, I'm staying out of this one."

Malfoy deadpanned, drawling, "Are you serious?"

Nott brushed off his shirt and stood up. "Completely. Quite frankly if I were you I would bring the map to Dumbledore," Draco snorted, "but I know you better than that." He touched his face for a second in thought. "What you are probably looking for is a keyword, a password. Whatever he used the map for, that probably has something to do with it, work with that and go from there."

Draco picked the map up with a snap and folded it. "Always a pleasure Nott."

---

It was after dinner that Harry had a moment to himself. He had patrol rounds later in the evening and he took the block waiting to walk, instead of heading towards his common room, heading up the marble staircase. He wound his way about the first floor, watching his reflection in the long windows flicker past, his face changing expressions from calm to bothered. He felt uneasy, anxious. He guessed he knew where he had been going all along but he still felt a flash of chagrin when he reached and stopped in front of the second floor girls bathroom. For a moment he debated the foolishness of entering, it was after all a girls loo and he had more than one reason for not wanted to draw any attention to it. A minute passed however and as he stood, staring around he came to the conclusion that the hallway was as empty as it could be. He pushed the door open swiftly and entered quickly. The pale light reflected off of the tiles and white dripping sinks. His eyes sought the prize. Spotting the tap with, as he looked, the small snake on it he walked closer toying with the incredible. Should he enter it? No, no why would he want to do that, he knew what he would find. But surly there was more to it than he had been able to look at when he had been there last. Surely a lot had escaped his frantic notice as he had been fighting the basilisk and Tom.

A clunking noise behind him made him stiffen, he watched through the mirror in horror as a stall door was pushed open. There was a sniffing noise as Harry made the decision not to run, thinking that it would only serve to make him look more suspicious. Straight and rigid he watched Myrtle leave the stall and wipe her face letting out a little gasp before spotting him.

"You! What are you doing here?" The look of fear on her face surprised him. Surely she didn't think he would hurt her?

"I- er, I was just looking for water. I needed a minute alone-"

Myrtle's face, he saw, was red and streaked from tears. "This is a girls bathroom, you should't be in here!"

His momentary panic was ebbing and he found his defensive ease, "Yeah," he pawed his hair awkwardly, "I looked around and didn't see anybody, I didn't mean to frighten you."

Myrtle had crossed her arms and was looking more bothered than ever, "Yeah, I'm sure you didn't. You didn't even see me when you were looking. It's not even like you would remember me. You probably don't know my name."

Harry grinned easily, "Myrtle." Her face pouted, "Look, it's not your fault I didn't spot you, I was just unobservant, I'll leave you be."

She moved forward a little as he turned to go. "What did you need to be alone for? You have so many friends, why aren't you with them?"

Harry sighed a little as he turned and with an awkward swoop, he watched her eyes move from his face, to the mirror behind him just above the entrance to the chamber of secrets. He tried his face best to keep the nervousness off his face, "Sometimes it's nice to be alone."

Myrtle shrugged, the last of the tears falling away. "I wouldn't know the difference, I'm always alone." Harry softened his features, hoping to placate her into letting him leave. she fiddled with her skirt, "You really helped me with my transfiguration you know, my grades are better."

Harry smiled roguishly. "That's good. You just need more confidence you know."

Myrtle smiled now, a bit of the ghost he would know showing up in her teeth. "It's kind of hard to be. School is hard enough with bullies, but now you add to that a giant monster and-"

Harry laughed a little, "Who knows what it could be."

Myrtle shook her head eagerly, "No, no it's a monster, a scaly one!"

Harry felt his smile turn into a grimace. "What?"

Myrtle nodded enthusiastically, clearly happy she had something interesting to tell him, "Oooh, yes. A giant scaly monster, or at least that's what Tabby says."

Harry stepped forward, eager to have her finish the tale his face a mask of the pleasant. "How well do you know Tabby? She might just be trying to scare you."

Myrtle shook her head, "No, she swears it and she was the one who found the last person! Says as she as walking down the corridor she saw the end of a great scaly monster, she heard a weird sound, like something sliding and then she saw it!"

"What?" Harry asked, unable to help himself.

"The body!"

It took a second for Harry to be sure his face was presentable. His palms were sweaty, if this was true, than a girl named Tabby knew a lot more than she should. His pulse beat with guilt. Because he was and if he was caught he might never be able to get back to his own life. Harry laughed smoothly, "I'm sure she was just scared, I mean, can you imagine finding girl, frozen in a dark hallway?"

Myrtle nodded, "I guess it could have been but she seemed so sure."

Harry laughed amiably. "Well, if you hear slithering than you should probably turn away just in case."

She sniffed and looked up at him.

---

It was very late when Harry, having finished his rounds, reached the dungeon entrance to his common room, his head full of thoughts. Most of the less then comforting. The door to the common room opened and at first Harry expected and rather saw an empty room. Then he was aware of voices coming from the end of the room.

"I've told you and you won't listen!" There was the sound of footsteps.

"I said enough Lestrange, surely you don't think me so simple that I am not be able to understand the worlds that come out of your mouth. I assure you I have heard every word you've said and more besides but of course it would never occur to you that perhaps I understand more of your own story than you do. It is hardly my fault that you have been outwitted"

The second voice that was Lestrange bit back, "Then how can you-"

Harry cut him off by stepping into the firelight. "Lestrange, Tom."

Tom looked up at him, his face the mirror image of his own, calm, stoic and unaffected.

Lestrange on the other hand paled. "Potter," he muttered and turned to walk past him. Harry could hear his footsteps as he left, fading slightly as he turned and went to their dormitory. Harry looked around and spotted a first year in an armchair, muttering and writing rapidly, clearly uninterested.

Harry had to fight the urge to follow Lestrange to bed, knowing as he did that Tom tended to enjoy this time alone, analyzing the many endeavors he singlehandedly orchestrated. Rather than let his mind get the better he sat down next to Tom assuredly. Tom who had been sitting back against the couch's headrest watched him without a look of concern, almost as though he had expected this invasion. As intimidating as usual Harry didn't find it at all calming that he had something to tell him. Sighing slightly, Harry rubbed his arm and looked at the fire over the coffee table that was spread with papers, one of them he recognized. Tom watched his hand twitch to his forearm and smiled blackly. "You've been in pain?"

Harry remained stoic for a moment before nodding. "Lestrange came to you about Malfoy and I being rude to him?"

Tom looked over at him before looking into the fire, "Out of fear yes. He sees now his miserable situation, one he didn't not have the intelligence to see was forming. He sees that our circle has expanded and will inevitably shrink and now knows that Malfoy has made his move to ensure he is not the one left in the dark. He knows he is powerless to scheme against you with the other's holding Malfoy's move as firm. He suspects rather, that you are more powerful than Malfoy will ever be but is too proud to approach you and so he solidifies his own demise."

Harry blinked. Tom rarely waxed so fully on anything without being prompted to do so. "And you don't feel any need to interfere. That is, you approve."

Tom shot an arch look. "I think it is the most logical expulsion."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Avery, Goyle and Knott are thuggish."He was speaking aloud the thoughts he had been mulling over for nearly five months, "They want a more sophisticated cruelty. They need you. Malfoy, well, he's rich isn't he?" Tom was looking him square on now and Harry wondered for a moment if he had finally gone too far, forgotten his place out comfort. Too late now to swallow it he continued, "And you may be the smartest but certain schemes require resources. Me? I'm clever and therefore efficient. We have a lot in common but I am certainly in no position to overpower you and have no thirst to do so. Lestrange is hasty, proud and quick, all bad qualities in a friend whose sole purpose is nearly every time discretion."

Tom had not blinked. Harry fumbled a little, "I'm not saying I know what your purpose is Tom, but it seems to me that knowing the situation second to best, those would be your motives."

The moment was long but not panicked. There was a trace of something almost perfumed about his expression, finally leaning closer he might have given Harry a suggestive look, "Yes Lestrange would be the most obvious but you won't argue that the most logical can be no one but yourself."

Harry did his best to remain straight faced.

Tom's movements were slow but assured, "Surely is you have realized what a risk you are." To Harry's shock Tom smiled, "Efficient yes Harry, but only because you are the closest to me, both metaphorically and in personality. You carry out a task nearly as well as I might myself and as a result you tend to understand my motives better than anyone. This makes you powerful for me." Harry's body was screaming but his eyes stayed on Tom's. If this was finally it, he would face it without blinking. "In many ways I respect you but Harry, what is desirable in a friend is nothing less than lethal in an enemy."

Harry swallowed. "I am not an enemy." The closest in personality.

Tom's face was almost passive, "I have repealed Lestrange and in doing so I have made it clear to him that you may do as you wish."

Harry felt a strange burning in his skin. He felt it almost without reacting. Blushing. In some strange and twisted way this was perhaps the most telling sign he had ever had of Tom's favoritism; he had had authority beyond that of the rest for some time but it had never been backed up by Tom himself. Tom had never denied or accepted this unspoken truth and Harry now found himself validated. The effect was strangely numbing. The lack of pretense was unusual and Harry felt a need to carry it to that effect. "You will not regret it."

Tom's face lacked the usual appeal of it's handsomeness. He was not hiding behind a laugh. "You wanted to tell me something?"

Harry tried to remember if he had mentioned his conversation with Myrtle. Tom let out a silvery breath, "Why else would you have disturbed me?"

"Is it so impossible that I like spending time with you?" Tom's eyes reacted slightly to this and Harry inwardly felt a surge of pride at his sheer excess of balls. "I ran into Myrtle on my rounds." This was a lie, he had seen her before he had been on patrol but that would have involved his admitting to visiting the entrance to the chamber of secrets.

Tom sat back slightly, indicating that he should finish the story.

"It was just a little thing, the run in but she said something I thought was odd."

"And that was?"

"She knew the monster was a reptile, she also knew, or rather she may know, that it hisses."

Tom remained fairly calm, "I imagine it can't be expected that nothing of the monster will be known."

Harry hid his surprise. "I guess the girls in that year have been talking about it. Tabby?"

Tom looked more intent now. "She told her friends this?"

Harry squinted in confusion, "No, they told her."

Tom nodded as though taking in more than he had knowingly presented him with. "That is unfortunate."

Harry worried his lip, "I thought it was somewhat disturbing." There was something strange about the conversation, Harry thought, trying hard to decide what it was. That Tom had suspected Myrtle had told her friends something immediately? That was not a casual response. Still though he found nothing in it and he soon had moved on.

That night as he was preparing for bed though, taking books off his pillow and slipping his glasses into a drawer he found more explanation than he would ever have hoped for when as he shifted his schoolbooks a piece of paper he had stolen and then forgotten tumbled onto the blankets: the note he had taken from Myrtle's bag several days before, the on in Tom's handwriting. Picking up the paper gingerly as though holding something explosive Harry suddenly remembered why he had managed to live for so long before discovering ambition: sometimes things just came to you.

---

"What exactly are you doing Draco?"

Draco was bent over Professor Snape's desk, next to pile of uncorrected homework scribbling a note on a piece of paper. The innate guiltiness of the position was unfortunate and as though to prove he wasn't tampering with homework he stepped back hastily, "Leaving a note sir."

Snape had reentered the room, "Of course you know I welcome a correspondence Draco but for future reference If think surely it would be easier to seek me out."

Draco's cheeks went pink and he took the note off the desk before Snape could reach it. "Yes, next time I'll look for you-"

Snape took his seat and Malfoy backed away further, disposing of the note in the waste bin. "I suppose it is a matter of importance that could not wait for my return?"

Malfoy fought down the flush. "No, it's really more a curiosity."

Snape made a movement with his hand that indicated Draco should be seated, "I am interested."

Draco took the seat with less poise and character than he usually did, wondering for the thousandth time if this was a mistake. Surely asking Knott had been a wise move but Snape was much smarter and much better spotting a falsehood. There was danger here. He knew Snape's relationship with his family gifted him with certain allowances from his favorite professor. Snape's relationship with Dumbledore could not be ignored.

Still, Snape had never seen the map and there was a good chance he would be better equipped than he was.

"It's about a map sir."

* * *

Don't know about you guys, but I have a feeling he's seen that map a'fore.

As always, comments, questions and suggestions are very welcome and all shall be responded to.


	29. A Note and A Plan

Authors Note

It's been a long time since I have posted on this site as I have been as ever, very busy and very, very lazy. I was just recently talking to a friend about this story which made me come back and reread it. This what occurred to me. Some of the earlier stuff needs a hard editing but man is it long and still unfinished, like some poor child I half adopted and left on a stoop! THIS WILL NOT DO! I still have two half finished chapters to this story I never posted and a full body structure as to how I would like it to end. I also have a full work up for a modern Hogwarts sequel on my computer. Not to mention it still is getting nearly as much traffic as it was two years ago. So this is what I am thinking. I'm going to go back and edit my way through the story to make it all more fluid and then I'm going to finish it. I spent far more time creating this story than I would like to admit not to menton I really loved writing it. Not finishing it seems very wrong somehow. I'm going to give myself two weeks for editing by which point I plan to resume posting normally. In any case I'm sure you have noticed this is not a true chapter and is therefore probably breaking all kinds of fan fiction rules by being a post dedicated to an over long authors note so I'm going to stop here and get to work. I just wanted a chance to let readers know that this is no longer a dead story.

New post by mid may. Thank you to everyone who has continued reading this in my long lazy authors absence! If you all are willing to stick with me, I say lets do this. (If not I give you free leave to thinkof me forever as a lazy ass-hat!) I would love to hear from any of you. I've noticed while writing this story that often times in reviews or conversations you have passed on to me amazing story muses! All discussion would be appreciated and will help put me into to story mode quickly!


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